


Civilian Life

by assassin_trifecta



Series: Walk of a Warden [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: AU - Modern fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Apartment AU, F/M, Minor Anders/Female Hawke, Modern AU, Modern Fantasy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, minor Solas/Female Lavellan, past Nathaniel Howe/female Cousland, ptsd mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 45,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3787336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassin_trifecta/pseuds/assassin_trifecta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ileanna Cousland is the former commander of the Grey Wardens, an elite force of soldiers formed and required only in dire times of Blight. With the Fifth Blight ended and the Darkspawn driven away after Ileanna dealt the final blow to the monstrous Archdemon herself, the Wardens were disbanded and sent back to their former lives.</p><p>While most of her Wardens were able to easily reacclimate themselves to civilian life, Ileanna is living alone, forced to cope with her nightmares and her lost memories. When a fire alarm in her apartment building goes off, however, it dredges up someone from her past that Ileanna is not sure if she would rather be left completely forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alarm

**Author's Note:**

> I by no means am affected by the PTSD that many soldiers are afflicted with. This work is not meant to be disrespectful to those who are faced with the challenge of trauma to the degree that many in the armed forces are met with, and I try my best to do truthfully to what I write. That being said, I will happily take any criticism this receives, and work to better myself and my understanding/studies to reflect what I am given.
> 
> Thank you all for reading - Sam

Ileanna could hardly breathe in the swarm of people that had come out of the apartment building once the fire alarm sounded. There was a huge throng of them, and her time in the Wardens had left her claustrophobic and wary of large congregations. Still, she had a duty to fulfill and she had sworn an oath, and despite the anxiety that raked through her she did her best to direct people down the steps and into the parking lot, keeping small children with their parents and holding the ones that were lost with her.

She had left her room in such a hurry that she was wearing nothing but her pajama pants and an exercise bra, but there were people who were worse for wear – including the man who had jogged down the steps in nothing but a bath robe, his hair still sudsy with shampoo. She would have kept him with her to make sure that he wouldn’t hurt himself or anyone else, but a small elf child needed her attention.

            When her hall was empty, Ileanna took the children that she had gathered and raced down the steps with all of them in tow, one on her back and the elfling girl her arms. At the bottom of the flight, there was the bath robed man, directing people to their safe zones according to building and floor. She was surprised to see him there, and surprised that so many people were taking him seriously while he was dressed the way that he was.

            “I’m going to find these children their parents!” Ileanna shouted to him when she raced by. “If anyone comes looking for their child, please direct them to the manager’s building!”

            “Yes, commander!” The man shouted in return, and she almost tripped on herself and nearly dropped the two children she was holding, though she was able to recover quickly enough so that no harm came to them.

            _How did he know-_

            But there was no time to speculate. The children were crying for their parents and Ileanna had to usher them to the apartment manager’s office. Soon enough, parents started to show up before her, tears in their eyes and thanking her for keeping her children safe. She saw no evidence of fire in the apartment building and couldn’t understand why the adults were so flustered, but she paid them respects and made sure they were actually the parents of the children before she sent the little ones off. The elf child was left lingering, however, and when all of the other children had been claimed, Ileanna knelt down in front of the child, worry on her face.

            “Were your parents home when the alarm went off?” She asked, hoping that the little elfling could speak Common.

            The little girl shook her head no, and Ileanna sighed. “When we’re allowed back in I’ll take you home and keep you safe, okay?” She asked, offering the child a little smile. “When do your mommy and daddy usually get home?”            

            “Mamae and babae work late.” The girl spoke quietly and shyly, and Ileanna guessed that she had seen enough cruelty at the hands of humans to be wary of the giant human woman. “They won’t get home until real early morning.”

            Ileanna checked her watch. 9:15. The girl had been home alone all day – maybe since she got home from school – and had to go through the fire alarm on her own. Had to eat dinner on her own and take care of herself… No doubt that her parents were too tired in the morning to send her off to school, on top of that, so she probably hadn’t seen them all day. If they were so absent, then during the school week she probably rarely got to see them at all… Her heartstrings pulled. She had lost her family at an early age, but this girl had to be without her mother and father while she was so little…

            Without warning, a hand landed on Ileanna’s shoulder and she nearly swung the offending stranger over her and onto the child. She forced herself to calm before acting, taking a deep breath and running through the quick strategies that her therapists had given her.

            “Commander?” The voice was quiet, but she recognized the shampooed stranger that had helped her earlier. “Did the parents come?”

            Her body relaxing slowly after the adrenaline rush that the stranger had brought on, Ileanna let out a sigh. “Most of them did, but this girl’s mother and father work into morning hours, so she’s going to be alone.” She gestured down to the small child, sympathy in her eyes. “I told her I would take care of her until they got back.”

            The stranger gave her a smile and pushed the shampooed hair out of his face. In the light from the manager’s office, she could see clearly now the cut of his jaw and the scruff on his chin, but worst of all, she could see the puppy dog eyes that he gave her when the concern welled to the point of breaking the dam. She had seen his face before, and not just from being on the same floor in their apartment complex. Truth be told, Ileanna never even knew that he lived in the same town, let alone the same building, but the shock of his face sent her reeling.

            “Commander?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

\---

_“Commander?” The Captain raised his eyebrow at the woman standing behind the desk, staring at the scattered papers – notes and diagrams that had been left there by a number of coming and going war statisticians. To the untrained eye, she was reading through the reports, scanning them carefully. But to captain, and to the rest of her troops, she was in a completely different world. The Warden-Commander had been through too much in the past few days. She’d been handed too much responsibility when she hadn’t been well enough to take it. “Commander.” The Warden repeated again, and though the concern in his tone was not lost, he added emphasis to bring her back. The captain held out his hand and the sheaf of papers that he held in them. “The reports, commander?”_

_The commander snapped to attention as though he might have been any number of her superiors standing before her, and upon seeing him her cheeks flushed with embarrassed understanding. “Right.” She nodded, clearing her throat. “Right, sorry captain.” Reaching forward, Warden-Commander Ileanna took the offered documents and added them to the growing pile on her desk with a sigh. “Anything to add, Alistair?” she asked, looking up at her subordinate with a measured glance. “You know I trust your experience more than your reports.”_

_\---_

The memory hit Ileanna like a brick, one of the many to resurface over the past months. Civilian life had its benefits, but after a military career – after the Blight had ended and the Wardens were no longer a required force – she found that pieces of her past came in small, sharp pains that resurfaced just as quickly as bodies in the water.

            “Alistair!” The former commander barked out, hardly able to imagine that she had forgotten his face. “I’m sorry, I – I’m dealing with some things, I hardly recognized you!” Not to mention that he was in his rather plush bathrobe with his hair still soapy, but that was beyond the point. “I didn’t know you live in this building, too! What a coincidence.”

            Alistair gave a soft laugh and a shake of his head. Ileanna could see in the distance that people were starting to move back into the buildings now, after a few words announced by the manager. She glanced at the little elf girl, relieved that she was still there. Alistair looked between Ileanna, the girl, and the crowds of people moving back into their apartments after the fire alarm scare.

            “Do you think everything will be okay?” He asked, casting his glance down at the girl again, the worry clear in his voice and expression.

            “She’ll be okay.” The woman replied, wondering why Alistair was giving her such a strange look. She shrugged it off before continuing – there was no use getting worked up about anything from the past. Not at this point. Not that she could remember anything more, anyway. “I’ll take care of her, and when her parents get home I’ll bring her back to them.” She looked down at the little elf, giving the girl a smile. “That sound okay?” When the child nodded, Ileanna paused. “What’s your name, sweetie?” she asked, kneeling down in front of the girl again. “Mine is Ileanna.”

            “My name is Elanna.” The elf replied shyly, holding her hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Ileanna.”

            Ileanna gave a laugh, taking the girl’s small hand in her own and giving her a careful handshake. She leaned forward and opened her arms to the girl, and after a moment’s hesitation the child stepped forward and allowed Ileanna to pick her up once more. Alistair watched, his eyes narrowed slightly.

            “When did you get so good with kids, commander?” He asked when they all turned and added themselves to the end of the crowd filing back into their apartment building. A few parents stopped and thanked Ileanna, but when they caught sight of the elf child they frowned in distaste and walked away. Ileanna scoffed, shaking her head at the people.

            When you save enough lives, you stop caring about the shape of their ears.

            Remembering that Alistair spoke, Ileanna let out a sigh. “It comes with the job.” She replied simply, not sure what else she could offer him. They walked in silence to their floor, and when Ileanna stopped at her door Alistair lingered only a moment to wish her goodnight. Ileanna was grateful for that. She was not sure how many more memories she could take in one night, and she was looking forward to ice-cream and cartoons with the little elf girl.

            Juggling the child, Ileanna reached into the pocket of her pajamas and found the keys she had hastily grabbed on her way out, but before she could even open her door there was a loud oath to the Maker from a few feet away.

            Two doors down, Alistair was frantically shoving his hands in the pockets of his bathrobe, but it was apparently to no avail. He leaned forward, his head falling against the door to his apartment. Ileanna let out a soft sigh at the sight of him, pathetically banging his fist against the door. When he heard her, Alistair looked up, and he flush of his cheeks would have been laughable if she hadn’t known how embarrassed he was.

            “I forgot my key.” He stated simply, his shoulders falling.

            Ileanna looked to Elanna and gave her a wicked grin that the little girl giggled in response to. “What do you say, hm?” She asked the child. “Should we let him join us?”

            “Only if we get to twist his hair.” Elanna replied, giving a shy little laugh with her response.

            Alistair looked dumbstruck, but he knew when to count his losses. The former Warden sauntered over to the two of them, looking sheepish and defeated.

            Ileanna offered him a short smile before she opened the door to her apartment and gestured him in. The nightmares would come, as they always did, regardless of the company that she kept. Inside, she set the child down on her couch while Alistair lingered near the door, uncertainty on his face as he took in her home.

            Decoration was sparse. Ileanna hadn’t spent much on making her apartment feel more like a home. She had a soft couch long enough to fit a person, a television on the wall, and the windows were covered in the same dark drapes that had been there when she moved in. The archway to her kitchen was unadorned, and the faux-marble countertops were just the same as every other apartment in the building. She had spent far too much of her life moving around in the Wardens, and surely she would continue to move after this place. It was too much effort to drag trinkets and decorations along with her. Still, though, there were framed photographs on the mantle, some hanging on the walls, and some pictures simply taped to places that she could see at all times. Faces. Reminders. Some of them she could not recognize, even though she was standing next to them in the photographs. Some of them brought back memories too painful to relive. Some brought only tears.

            Alistair cleared his throat, and Ileanna remembered that he was still only in his bathroom, and the shampoo in his hair was starting to dry out and stick to him. She gestured for him to follow and showed him to her bathroom.

            “Here’s a clean washcloth,” she started, pulling one from her cabinet. “The blue towels on the racks are clean.” She stared at his bathrobe, perhaps a moment too long for comfort, but she nodded when she came to her conclusion. Without saying another word she turned and went to her room, and when she didn’t hear the door to the bathroom close she moved as quickly as possible. Moments later, she returned to a dumbfounded Alistair staring at the place that she had been. “Here’s a pair of sweatpants that’ll probably fit you, and an old t-shirt.” She placed the folded garments on the edge of the sink. “You’re free to use whatever’s in there.” She stated, gesturing to the shower. “Have you eaten?”

            Alistair stared at her for a moment longer before he nodded his head. She gave him a tight smile and turned to leave, but the man reached out to take her arm, more slowly – she noted – than he had placed his hand on her shoulder earlier in the parking lot.

            “Thank you, Commander.” He stated, giving her a short smile in return. “I mean it.”

            Taking no time to let the subtle meaning of his words affect her, Ileanna shook her head. “No need to thank me, Alistair.” She stated, simply. “And please… Just Ileanna.”


	2. Redcliffe

When Ileanna returned to the couch, Elanna was still sitting there, her feet barely touching the ground. The little girl patiently kicked her legs against the edge of the sofa, humming to herself the way children do to keep from being bored. Ileanna smiled at her and knelt before the little girl once again.

            “Have you eaten dinner, Elanna?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

            “Yes ma’am.” The little girl replied, nodding her head vigorously while she continued to swing her feet.

            “Alrighty then,” Ileanan continued, sitting up straighter. “Have you had a bedtime snack?”

            There was a moment’s pause where Elanna considered her options. She could have said yes, completely, but she could have also said no, if it was a lie or not, and have gotten another snack. Ileanna almost laughed at the weight of the battle going on that was clearly expressed on the little girl’s face. After a moment, Elanna sighed and nodded. “I did.” She finally answered, though Ileanna could tell that she was happy with herself for telling the truth.

            “Are you hungry?” The human asked, unsure of whether or not the child had been sufficiently eating. If her parents were as absent as she said they were, then there was no doubt that the little girl was taking care of herself. Ileanna knew the possibilities that insinuation left, and she couldn’t help but worry that little Elanna wasn’t getting the right amount of nutrients in her life.

            Still though, the child shook her head, continuing to swing her feet and smile at Ileanna.

            The former commander let out a short sigh, but she continued to smile for the child’s benefit. “Do you want to watch cartoons?” she asked instead, gesturing over her shoulder at the television.

            Finally the little girl exclaimed her agreement and Ileanna situated her on the couch with the remote and let her watch what she said she was allowed to. Ileanna kept an eye on the girl while she went to the kitchen, filling a mug with water and setting it in the microwave to boil. The water in the bathroom was still running – Alistair must have just started his shower when the fire alarm went off. Either that, or he took really long showers. She couldn’t blame him though. There wasn’t really a way to wash of the Darkspawn taint.

            Ileanna’s kitchen was just as sparsely decorated as her living room. She knew a number of people that liked to keep their kitchen pretty, but adoring the walls were only the photographs that she could stand to place there. Most were haphazardly taped to the paint, attached to the fridge with magnets, or simply laying on her cluttered tabletop. She stared at a few of them as she leaned against the counter, willing herself remember any faces that she couldn’t.

            There was one in particular that stood out to her now, but she couldn’t grasp at where it had been taken. She and her troops stood in their dress uniforms, something that was rare for the Wardens. There were only a few of them then; Morrigan, she remembered, was a woman they had found down in the Wilds, and though she was a little snappy she was a good friend. Leliana was Orlesian, working with the Chantry now, but that was all the commander could remember. There was an elf, a huge Qunari who looked to have shaved off his horns, and an older woman that Ileanna couldn’t quite remember. And there was Alistair, standing beside Ileanna with a smile on his face, though she couldn’t remember why. Looking closer, she saw that her eyes were narrowed, but her lips were twitched up, as though they had shared some joke before the picture was taken that no one else could have heard…

            “Redcliffe.”

            Alistair’s voice startled Ileanna out of her reverie, making her nearly jump out of her slippers. She hadn’t heard him get out of the shower, much less wander into the kitchen. When she looked, he was standing there with a sad sort of smile on his face, a few inches away from the fridge where she was staring at the photo. She hadn’t heard him get so close, either.

            “It was just after we got rid of the demon and all of the corpses, remember?” He asked, and Ileanna nodded her head, even though she couldn’t remember a damn thing. “Eamon took the picture. He’s a good man…” There was a sadness in his voice still, in the way that he looked at the picture. The quirk of his lips wasn’t anywhere near the silly grin he wore in the photograph, and Ileanna could see the lines on his face where the Blight had aged him now, more than ever. He couldn’t have been a year or so older than she was, and the toll that the war had taken on him was far more visible than she ever saw on herself. Maybe there was something deeper to Redcliffe than she could have thought…

            “You pointed out a massive spider in Zevran’s hair. Right after the picture was taken he flipped out…”

\---

_“Alistair, look.” Ileanna whispered, pointing just in front of her to where Zevran stood beside the Qunari. The Antivan was picture perfect, as ever, but just below his uniform hat a spider – huge, probably from the basement of the Arl’s mansion – was weaving its way through his hair. They had been lined up perfectly for this shot, and in front of them Eamon had finally gotten them all ready to take the picture. If the commander said anything to Zevran then, he would have surely lost it, and the picture would have been ruined._

_Beside her, Alistair’s face twisted in his attempt to hide his laughter. They stood well in the back, elevated on the steps in front of Redcliffe Manor. The commander and the captain smirked at each other, though neither faced away from the camera. The spider had nestled itself against the tie where Zevran’s braids were clasped together, and just as the picture was taken Alistair’s composure tore and his face broke out into a wicked grin. He was able to hold on only a moment longer before his laughter ripped through his throat and bubbled out of him._

_“What? What are you laughing about? The elf turned around to face the two of them, and Ileanna couldn’t stop herself from joining Alistair._

_“There’s a spider in your hair, Zev!” She burst out. “It’s huge!”_

 

\---

“Ileanna?”

            Alistair’s hand was reaching out to her, but the woman brushed his hand aside, clearing her throat. There were tears in her eyes, she knew, but it was easier pretending that there weren’t. Instead she simply took the photograph from her fridge, replacing the magnet before turning around to a drawer in her kitchen where she dropped the picture among others like it. She had remembered, and though there was no figurative drawer in the back of her mind where she could store the memory again, the one in her kitchen worked just as well.

            Ignoring Alistair still, Ileanna turned to the microwave, sighing when she saw that her timer had gone off long before. She opened the door, finding that the water was lukewarm and wouldn’t do any good for her now.

            “Want some tea?” She asked, finally turning around to face Alistair in hopes that they could ignore the tears in her eyes that she couldn’t understand and the constant blacking out while standing.

            “I- yeah, sure…” Alistair nodded, leaning back against the counter where Ileanna had been while she went back to her cabinets to find a mug for him. He watched her work, and when she returned her mug to the microwave with his, he offered a small, reassuring smile.   

            “So,” Ileanna started after a long moment of silence between the two of them. “What have you been doing with yourself?” she asked, looking over to the former captain. He wore her sweatpants and t-shirt, but she was surprised to find that she had given him one of her old uniform shirts. It fit him, remarkably enough, but the familiarity of seeing him in the casual blue of the Wardens was almost jarring. Then again, he also wore her sweatpants, and every time he turned she could see evidence of the PINK slapped across his ass, which gratefully took away from the memories and the headaches and the pain.

            “Eamon is helping me through law school,” Alistair replied, running his hand through slightly damp hair. “DU is a great school but it would have cost me an arm and a leg, even after service.” He gave a short laugh. “Eamon says that it’ll be better for me to go through school before anything.” There was an underlying meaning to that which Ileanna wasn’t sure she understood, but she set it aside. Alistair’s background was his own, and if he had told her before he would tell her again. If not, then it was up to him what he did. “What about you?” He continued, glancing around the kitchen as though he could gain some insight into her life. “Shouldn’t you be in Highever?”

            Ileanna’s frown deepened. If there was anything that she remembered, it was Highever. As horrible as it was, it was one of the few things that hadn’t been pushed out of her mind from the war. “I was, for a time,” she started, just as the microwave beeped. She took their mugs down and set tea bags in each and started a timer to steep. “Fergus wasn’t well enough to do… anything, really.” She shrugged. “The Chasind have their remedies, but the state that he was in when he showed up after the war… He was bad.” Still, he was alive. “I had Highever for a few months, and I gave Nathaniel Howe back his lands. The petition took a while, and by the time it went through Fergus was well enough to get back on his feet.” She leaned against the opposite side of her counter and offered a shrug. “For right now, I’m writing.”

            Alistair didn’t ask what she was writing, and she was grateful for it. There were books springing up about the Fifth Blight everywhere, but they were all historical analyses. There was no truth, no real _hard_ truth that the people of Ferelden needed to know. She was writing about the Wardens. About the Darkspawn and the treason of General Loghain and his forces. About what really happened in Highever, on top of that. She was sifting through photographs and memories and putting them together into memoirs, but it was slow progress and she hadn’t gotten far in the year that she’d been writing.

            When their tea was done, she let Alistair fix his the way he liked. They stood in the kitchen in silence, sipping tea and listening to the sounds of cartoons from the television before Ileanna nodded her head toward the living room. When she passed through the entry from the kitchen, Ileanna couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the sight of Elanna. The little girl had made it through one episode of a cartoon before she was knocked out on the couch, her head resting against one of the pillows Ileanna kept there. The woman smiled at the little elf, pulling the couch blanket over her so that she wouldn’t get cold.       

            “Looks like the couch is taken.” Ileanna whispered to Alistair when they returned to the kitchen. “I’ll take her back home when her parents get in, but if you’re looking to get to sleep before that, then I have a few sleeping bags, if that’ll do for you.” She paused, frowning, remembering that Alistair had forgotten his key during the fire alarm. “Alistair, how are you going to get back into your apartment?”

            The man looked stunned for a moment at the question, but shook it off almost immediately. “My roommate is at his girlfriend’s house tonight, but he’ll be back tomorrow morning.” He smiled at his old commander, setting her at ease. “I’ll be out of your hair by then.”


	3. Friendly Neighbors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short, poorly edited update that I apologize for. I wasn't sure where I was initially going with this, and I'm still not, but I've got a better idea and I like writing it so everyone can deal. Also, Solevallan make an appearance (first of many?) in the Hero's life :)

Thankfully, it was only midnight when Ileanna could hear Elanna’s parents outside in the hallway. They were her neighbors, she knew, from watching Elanna run out of the door next to her own during the fire alarm. Not once in her life had she met the two, but she suspected they had their reasons. There weren’t many elves this side of the town and the ones that were often faced pretty harsh treatment from the rest of the city. Sure, after the Blight their trials had lessened, but they were by no means openly accepted. No wonder the little girl’s parents had to work so late… They probably had troubles just getting the jobs that they had, let alone negotiating shifts…

            Ileanna stepped out of her apartment with Elanna in her arms, the little girl still sleeping soundly. Two older elves were in the hall, one with a bald head and an empty face, the other with braids and the tattooed markings of the Dalish on her face, which surprised Ileanna greatly. The two elves looked up at her when she stepped into the hall and their eyes went immediately wide. The man, the bald one, immediately went into stress mode, but Ileanna bowed her head politely.

            “Ir abelas,” she spoke softly, calmly. She had been blessed to spend time in a Dalish camp during the Blight, and the elves there had been kind enough to take care of her and a few Wardens that were with her. She had picked up fragments of their language and their culture, and was honestly sad when she had to leave them. They were good to her and her men, and were later crucial to helping her end the Darkspawn invasion. It was a good memory, and she was glad that she could remember it. Ileanna knew that if Elanna could speak Common, then her parents were probably the ones that taught her, but she hoped that using their language might have settled their nerves a little bit. She was grateful when she noticed that the man lowered his defenses and the woman’s eyes sparkled with surprise. “There was a fire alarm.” The former warden continued, in Common now. “She forgot her key when she ran out, and I made sure she was safe until you returned home.”

            The conversation jolted little Elanna in her arms, and the elf child sleepily looked up to her parents. She grinned at both of them, as though she were surprised to see them home so early. The little girl looked up to her, and when Ileanna set her down carefully she went over to her parents and started speaking in rapid-fire Elvish, much to their surprise. She started rambling, and when Ileanna heard her name and saw the child point at her, she almost froze on the spot, but the mother beamed and the father gave her a smile that was less threatening than he had been before.

            “Thank you, Miss,” The mother said as she leaned down to pick up little Elanna. She stepped forward, balancing the girl on her hip and offering her free hand for Ileanna to shake. “Really, how can we ever repay you?”

            “It’s nothing, ma’am, I was just doing my duty. She is a sweet girl.” Ileanna smiled, bowed in her head as she took the other woman’s hand and gave it a polite shake. “And please, we’re neighbors. It’s just Ileanna.”

            There was a moment’s paused before the woman’s face lit up with recognition. Under the dim lights of the hall, Ileanna could see her eyes wide and sparkle, and she could have simply thrown herself off of the third floor balcony and onto the parking lot then. The elf woman gasped and practically pulsed with eagerness.

            “You’re the Hero of Ferelden!” She squealed, looking back to her husband. “Solas, love, we’ve been living next to the Hero of Ferelden this whole time and we didn’t even know it!”

            Ileanna suppressed a groan and forced a smile. She had saved a lot of lives, sure, taken the killing blow on the Archdemon, but if it was up to her, she would have never allowed anyone to give her the title of Hero of Ferelden. It made her sound far more important than she felt, and like she had single-handedly stopped the Blight. There were many that stood with her against the might of the Darkspawn forces, and yet the news crews had focused on her, centered on her life and hounded her. All because she was the commander of the illusive Grey Wardens. There were still news crews searching after her story, reporters digging up her email and her phone number. People wanted to know what happened to the Hero of Ferelden, where she had gone, and what she was doing with her life. Ileanna lied. She learned to stop answering her phone and deleted most of her emails. The ones she replied to, she told them she was going to school, getting a job, doing anything but moping in her apartment, wracked with trauma and shaking at every knock on her door.

            But here was this beautiful young Dalish woman who had a brilliant little girl and a husband that seemed to look at her as though she were the brightest star in the sky, so excited to see Ileanna, meet her and practically glowed in her presence.

            “Forgive me,” the woman smiled up at Ileanna sheepishly, her eyes cast away from the human’s face as though she were nervous of the consequences of looking directly at Ferelden nobility. “It’s just – you helped some of my people, and you are one of the first Fereldens to fully support us, and oh it is just such an honor to meet you!” In the woman’s arms, little Elanna looked star struck. “Oh, Creators forgive me, my name is Elanna!”

            “Your name is Elanna?” Ileanna asked, blinking. “Then… Your daughter’s name is not?” The human looked down to the little elf girl who very suddenly looked more tired than she had been when she saw her parents. Ileanna gave her a gentle frown, her hands on her hips.

            The woman let out a short laugh, her eyes sparkling. “Da’len,” she looked down to the girl in her arms. “Did you give a stranger mommy’s name to keep yours safe?” The little girl nodded sheepishly but buried her face in her mother’s neck to avoid any further conflict. “Her name is Lanaya.”

            Behind Elanna and Lanaya, the man, Solas, cleared his throat. “Elanna,” he spoke softly, but with reverent love. “Vhenan, it is late.”

            Elanna smiled sheepishly, looking up at Ileanna. “Please, we must speak together sometime,” she smiled. “It would be an honor to get to know you.”

            “It would be my pleasure.” Ileanna lied swiftly, though her smile was not as forced as it had been earlier. After she bid goodnight to the family, Ileanna shut her door behind her when she was in her apartment and closed her eyes, sliding down against the metal door with a long sigh.

            “Are you alright?”

            “Maker-!!” Ileanna practically jumped a foot in the air when she heard Alistair speak after a minute or so of silence. Her heart raced and her breathing came in hasty, shuddering gasps, but she managed to force out an apology. “Forgive me, Alistair, I forgot that you were here.” She admit, ashamed of herself. “It has… been a long night.”

            “Get some rest, Ileanna.” The man smiled at her. “It looks like the couch is open again, so you won’t have to deal with me sleeping on your floor.”


	4. Night Terrors

_Urthemiel. That’s what they were saying this creature was, but Ileanna had read the books and studied the constellations, and this was no ancient Old God of beauty, this was a creature that had haunted her dreams and turned them to nightmares for months. The beast reared its ugly head at her and gave a powerful roar, but she would not falter. Not when the lives of Ferelden people depended on her success. Not when Thedas was counting on her to stop this Blight before it spread._

_The Warden-Commander let out a powerful shout, lifting her sword above her head in a challenge to the beast before she launched her attack. The creature landed down before her, and she was grateful that Alistair and the others were so far away. Grateful that Wynne was just close enough to keep throwing energy at her, rejuvenating her and stitching her skin back together in quick bouts of painful magic. The high dragon roared in her face and she could smell the taint on its breath, the Hell that it brought with it to the surface glinting off of its disfigured fangs._

_Ileanna launched again, but this time her feet would not move. Her body shifted, but her legs would take her nowhere and her arms were frozen at her sides, sword lifted and ready to strike but unable to make the final blow. Panic raced through her but she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, couldn’t shout, couldn’t cry. She was stuck, watching the end, it seemed, from a camera far away where everything was safe, but there was her body…_

_And there was the Old God Urthemiel, its head rearing back, the purple hellfire glowing in its throat. They were screaming behind her to move, and this is where she would have made the killing blow, but the muscles in her body wouldn’t work and there was_ fire _everywhere—_

_\---_

“Ileanna!” The shouting woke her before the burning could, before the flames engulfed her and she would have failed Ferelden, no – Thedas, forever. It was the shouting that brought her back to her apartment where she was tangled in her sheets, sweating and screaming like she had every night before, like she had whenever the memories came back. Except it wasn’t her shouting that woke her this time, it was Alistair, leaning over her with her name on his lips and worry in his eyes.

            “Ileanna…” He said again, softer now, his hands reaching to help untangle her.

            She slapped those hands away though, the frantic worry in the back of her mind heightened by the state of undress she was in. Her shirt had tangled itself around her chest and her underwear wedged uncomfortably between her legs, and while yes they had seen each other in various states of disarray before, she was sure, Ileanna had no intention of letting him see her like this, more vulnerable than she already was. “Go away.” She stated simply, the shame in her voice masked by the fear that her nightmares had caused. It would last for days, she was sure, the fear of the fire and the dragon and the taint, and the war. She would be standing on the roof of Drakon Prison for weeks, always frozen in place while the Archdemon was bearing down upon her, listening to the screams of her troops in the background. But it would never happen and she would be stuck constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure that the ground didn’t disappear behind her to give rise to another one of those awful creatures… “Go away, please.” She whispered, but there was a shake in her voice and she would never admit that she just didn’t want to be alone…

            “You should have told me,” Alistair whispered, sitting at the edge of her bed. He was right. She should have warned him that she would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. She had probably scared the life out of him. “I could have helped.”

            Despite herself, Ileanna scoffed. “What could you have done?” She asked, finally looking up at him and raising an eyebrow. “You should just… forget it ever happened.” _I wish I had…_

“Maker’s balls, woman,” Alistair sighed, shifting forward so that he sat on her bed with his legs crossed, his eyes narrowed at her and his lips set into a concerned frown. She winced at the harshness of his voice. He was fed up with her just like everyone else was. She had been nothing but a burden, and _he_ was the one staying at _her_ house. “Will you listen to yourself?” Alistair learned forward, reaching out slowly so that he could take her hands. “You’re not the only one that gets the nightmares. I can help you, Ileanna, if you’d just let me.”

            Ileanna frowned, watching his hands take hers, though she still couldn’t quite feel anything but the burning. She watched her arms move forward and his hands fold up around hers and wondered, briefly, when they had become so informal with each other. She stared at their hands for a long moment ashamed that she was being so selfish, so centered on her own troubles when she knew that she wasn’t the only Warden that had the nightmares. There was a country of people, practically, that still suffered from the trauma of the Blight. _But none of them stared down the mouth of Hell_. She reminded herself, though she was still ashamed of justifying her suffering as superior. _None of them did what I did…_

            All at once she was in tears. The guilt, the shame, and the false sense of justice welling over and spilling out in heavy sobs that echoed around her room. Thankfully Alistair didn’t move, didn’t shift to comfort her, only squeezed her hands a little tighter to remind her that she wasn’t alone.

            “I’m sorry,” the former commander choked when she was finally able to calm down. “I’m sorry, Alistair.” Her breathing still came in ragged gasps, but she was able to speak, to look up at him and notice his red rimmed eyes. The stains on his cheeks from where he, too, had been affected by the past. “I’m so selfish, I should have been there when everybody needed me. I should have been open and public and letting everyone know that everything was going to be okay, I should have stayed in contact, should have let everyone know that I was alright, that they could talk to me. It could be different, better, but I’m stuck in here screaming every night because I can’t let it go, and-“

            “Hush, Ileanna.” Alistair whispered, patting her hands gently. “You stared into the face of an Archdemon and the soul of an Old God ripped through yours.” She shuddered at the memory of the battle, but he continued, holding her hands tighter. “That will change someone, and you have every right to your suffering, don’t lessen that because you think you’re being selfish.” He gave her a gentle smile. “There aren’t many people that faced down an Archdemon and lived to tell the tale,” Alistair shifted forward slightly, leaning in to comfort her a little better, to share their space and make it so that she could feel less alone. “If I could have taken that from you, helped you, shielded you from that pain, then I would have.”

            There was a long pause, the air hanging heavy between them and Ileanna turned her glance back down at her hands, still wrapped tightly in his. He was warmer than her by a long shot, and seemed to hold his composure better, too. She wondered what he must have faced in his life before the Wardens, if he was so composed, so stable while she could hardly hold herself up.

            “I don’t remember anything.” She whispered after a long moment, her eyes still glued to their hands. It was strange, and comforting, and felt familiar but Ileanna was too focused on how relieving it felt to finally admit to someone other than her therapists that she could hardly remember a damn thing about the war. “Zevran, Wynne, Morrigan…” Another pause, and Ileanna took a deep, steadying breath. “You. It all comes back in short bursts and I can hardly remember any of their faces. You mentioned Redcliffe earlier and I had no idea what you were talking about. I keep these pictures around thinking that they’re going to help, but I just can’t place any faces, can’t remember half of the war, it’s all just one big blur leading up to the Archdemon and every time something comes back the nightmares just get worse because there are more people that I have to protect, and-“

Ileanna finally glanced up at Alistair, shocked to see the hardened hurt etched across his face. He stared at her, his eyes wide and mouth opened into a small ‘o’, but his brow pulled down in frustration. All at once, she regret opening up, regret telling anyone that she couldn’t remember. The clear pain in his expression had her second guessing getting the suffering off her chest. Guilt quickly replaced the relief she had felt, and she had no idea why. “You… You don’t remember?” He asked, and she winced at the scoff in his voice. Alistair dropped her hands, and for some reason the pain of that gesture panged harder in Ileanna’s chest than the nightmares, or the memories, or the emails building up and the messages in her phone. That simple gesture took her breath, and she _had no idea why._ “Not even… not even the good things?”

            Eyes welling up again, Ileana shook her head, afraid that if she spoke she wouldn’t be able to stop or catch her breath, and all of the air would seep from her lungs and leave her choking. She held it there, her breath in the back of her throat, refusing to let it escape until her lips started to tingle and her ears started to go numb. Alistair stared at her, the anger on his face morphing into hurt and then into sympathy. He took her hands again, and it was the connection that finally had Ileanna gasping for fresh air, her lungs heaving and finally allowing her to gulp in deep mouthfuls of oxygen.

            “I remember Duncan,” Ileanna whispered when her breathing had finally calmed. Alistair sucked in a little gasp, and she flashed him a sad smile before continuing. “The treaties, the Wilds. Daveth and Jory. I remember thinking Fergus was dead, and meeting Morrigan and her mother. I remember going into the tower, and suddenly Morrigan is with us and a bunch of other people and I’ve got the stripes on my uniform, and there’s an _office_ , and the King was dead, and Eamon needed our help, but it’s all a blur until Drakon.” She looked up at Alistair again, too exhausted to cry and too respectful of his privacy to ask about the hurt in his eyes. “I’m trying,” she continued, offering him a shrug. “But every time I do, the nightmare on Drakon just gets worse and worse, and I’m afraid to remember anymore.”

            Alistair took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Is that what you’re writing?” he asked after a moment. “A memoir? So you can remember?”

            “I wanted the people of Ferelden to know. Of Thedas. I want everyone, the great historians and politicians and Chantry scholars… I wanted them to see the right picture of the Blight. Of their Hero.” Ileanna nodded, turning twisting their hands so that now she held his. She squeezed them gently, trying to communicate the gravity of the situation, willing him to understand her plight. “But more than them, I wanted to know.” She continued, hanging her head once more. “More than that, I wanted to be able to remember and more than _anything_ I just wanted the nightmares to stop…”

            Alistair’s sympathy came back quickly and without warning he leaned across, pulling his hands from Ileanna’s so that he could wrap his arms tight around her. She took in a short gasp, hands clenching at her sides before she reached up and balled them to fists in her shirt that he still wore. She took in a shuddering breath, relieved at the warmth of his hug despite the fact that her shirt was still tangled painfully around her chest and her legs were completely bare. They stayed like that for a long moment, and her body warmed against his, the relief and comfort palpable in the air. This was right, she concluded, assuring herself that their closeness felt better than pushing someone else away. This was natural.

            “Get some rest, Alistair.” Ileanna whispered against his shoulder after a moment longer. “It’s three o’clock in the morning.”

            “I don’t want to leave you,” The man muttered in response, and though the gravity of his tone was not lost on her, Ileanna forced herself to ignore it. “I don’t want to-“

            “Alistair.” Ileanna stated, pulling herself carefully from his arms. She used her best Commander voice, no matter how much it made her flinch to do so. “Go get some sleep. Everything will be back to normal in the morning.”

            When Alistair stood with some reluctance, he offered her a sad smile and a shake of his head. “Maker,” he said in a soft whisper. “If only it could.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but I was eager to write this one. I'm a huge sucker for classic fantasy in modern settings, so I'm sorry if any of this is confusing. It is, in fact, set in a modern AU, with similar lore. I just couldn't imagine the Hero of Ferelden /shooting down/ the Archdemon, so there ya go. Thanks for reading - Sam <3


	5. Alistair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Things get a little bit steamy in this chapter, but I made sure to keep it low key so that the rating wouldn't bump. That being said, it's right in the beginning and you can skip the italics and get the gist of the dream anyhow. I find myself enjoying writing this fic far more than I thought I would. Thanks for sticking around, everybody! - Sam <3

_The soft brush of his skin against hers, his fingers dancing over the scars on her abdomen, her forearms and shoulders, tickling around the skin raised from swords and knives just above her chest. She pressed up against him, willing him to move his hands down further, but there was a wicked gleam in his eyes and the corner of his lips tilted up into a deviant smile that had her melting in place. His other hand danced over her sides, tracing the pattern of marks there almost reverently. He leaned down, his lips trailing over the crease on her cheek where a Darkspawn’s claws had ripped at her skin. He said he had been new to this but she could practically feel the lie in the light tickle of his touch over her belly, making her stomach flop and her heart drop down next to it._

_“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low so that the others – all still seated around the campfire – wouldn’t be able to hear him. Their lantern was hardly lit, to avoid casting shadows for their friends to see, and in the dim light she could see his eyes trail over her sun kissed skin almost greedily, tinting her cheeks pink. This was a dangerous game that they were playing. Maker knew that their relationship was against every code in the book, but she’d be damned if that was going to stop her now. “Maker forgive me,” he whispered the plea, his hands trailing lower, ever lower until she was gasping beneath him and writhing in her pleasure. “For I have tasted sin and I want more…”_

_“Alistair-“ She gasped, his name a breath on her lips and an oath all at once. “Alistair, please – more—“_

\---

Ileanna woke this time when the sun was peeking through the slit in her curtains, her body flushed warm and her cheeks red with the memory. Yes, it was a memory. She knew the truth of that much before she wanted to admit it to herself, knew how right it had been even when she wished that it was only a dream. That was why he had been so hurt. That was why he had dropped her hands and been so angry with her when she admit to him that she couldn’t remember. He had acted so normally, like nothing had happened, and she had told him that she didn’t recall a single detail… Perhaps he couldn’t, either?

            Maker, what did this all mean? Ileanna wondered, her cheeks still flushed in embarrassment as she sat up in her bed. This was the only detail that she could recall, no matter how hard she wracked her brain for more. They’d been together, she could surmise that much, but that memory must have been their first time… Was there more? Were they… were they an item? Had they been together against the regulations for long, or was it just a fling? He was an attractive man, and she was no slouch, she knew, but the way he had looked at her – the way she looked at him! – told far more than any words between them… But why was he behaving like nothing had passed between them?

            When she thought back to when she had let him into her apartment, Ileanna groaned. His face, of course, had fallen when she suggested that he might sleep on the couch when the elf child Lanaya vacated it, when she came back in after returning the girl to her parents and he told her that he would sleep on her sofa… He had smiled so sadly at her, and she hadn’t even thought about it. She hadn’t known! She groaned again, rolling over to press her face into her pillow. There were too many things she had to fix already, but this? What was she going to do about this?

            Taking a deep breath, Ileanna rose from her bed and dressed slowly, pulling on a pair of jeans and a tank top. She covered herself with a sweater and ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm down but effectively stressing herself out worse. Maker, how could she go out there now, knowing what she knew? She’d… She’d have to tell him, right?

            Or maybe she could keep it a secret.

            Maybe he didn’t have to know that she knew, and she could keep living her life in nightmares and her strange dreams and forgotten memories. Maybe she could just… willfully keep the information from him and let him keep wondering if she would ever remember…

            But before she knew it, Ileanna’s feet were carrying her through her apartment and there was Alistair on the couch, sitting up from his sleep and she was glad that he was an early riser because her voice was soft but her tone was hard with the lump in her throat constricting her breath.

            “Alistair?” She asked quietly, before she could stop herself from speaking. He looked up at her, sleepy eyes squinting into the dim apartment light so that he could see her better. It was cold in her living room in the mornings, and the blanket she had given him the night before fell from his shoulders and pooled around his waist when he sat up to look at her. “What happened between us?” She asked quietly, looking down at her feet to avoid his reaction for as long as possible.

            When she finally looked up she saw that he hadn’t moved, but his lips fell into that familiar ‘o’ that he had given her the night before. There was surprise in his eyes, at least, and not the anger that she had seen last night. This was where, in the crummy romance novels she secretly horded in her bedroom, he would rise from the couch and press her against a wall, sheltering her shivering form and holding her face in his hands so that he could kiss her deeply, emotionally. As passionately as he had in her memories. But Alistair simply kept staring, blinking at her as though he had no idea what she was talking about.

            “It’s a long story,” he started, and she nearly screamed, passing her hand through her hair again to grip at it instead of letting her emotions out on him. She knew it would be a long story, her whole fucking life was one long story, but that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and he could tell by the look on her face that he had guessed wrong. “I mean, one that I’ll tell, but you might want to get comfortable.” He continued, finally sitting up and shifting over so that she could sit beside him on the couch.

            Ileanna sighed with no small amount of relief, and took her place at the very corner of the couch, curling her legs up to her chest to form a protective shield around herself. She watched him eagerly from behind her knees, waiting for him to speak.

            “It started after Lothering,” Alistair started after a moment, clearing his throat. Ileanna could only piece together small fragments of what he meant. Lothering… She didn’t much remember it, but knew that she had picked up Lelianna and the Qunari in the refugee town. “You hadn’t taken Commander yet, but you led like you did, and Maker you were beautiful-“ Catching himself, Alistair cleared his throat and she was grateful that he was at least a little bit embarrassed by what he had admit. She wasn’t sure what she felt about him, and he seemed to understand that, much to his credit. “And then in Redcliffe, when I told you everything-“

            “Told me what?” she asked, frowning, her brow pulled together when the familiar headache of trying to force herself to remember started pounding behind her eyes again.

            Alistair shook his head. “Not now.” He stated, and through the dim light that seeped through her curtains, Ileanna could tell that this was something Alistair didn’t like to talk about. She would respect him in this. It was another moment before he could speak again. Another deep breath before he was going.

            “It was so easy after that. It was easier to be around you, to face the Blight. I thought that maybe it would be worse, trying to protect you, but then Eamon called into Orlais and you were named Warden-Commander and it was like…” Alistair sighed, but it was a happy sigh that was all sweet memories and goodness. “It was perfect. And then one night you called me into your tent and we… we-“

            “I know.” Ileanna whispered, her cheeks flushed behind her knees. “That was what I remembered.” There was a silence between them after that, and Ileanna cleared her throat. “But what happened after that, why didn’t you-“

            “You left.” Alistair shrugged, and she could hear the hurt in his voice even if his posture was easy going. “After the Archdemon was defeated, you just disappeared and I thought that you didn’t… You wouldn’t-“

            Pain welled up in Ileanna’s chest. She had defeated the Urthemiel and gone into the hospital, like any sensible person would do, and was out for weeks. As it turned out, the soul of an Old God does significant damage to a human being – would have killed any normal Warden, apparently, and Ileanna had no idea what kept her alive in the end. She woke up in Highever weeks later with little memory besides the nightmares the Old God had left her. Fergus was there with her, beaten and bruised but better taken care of than she had been. She got letters, sure. There were reporters coming in to see her, but when she was better and Fergus was still recovering, she sent them away. Along the line she had been visited by renowned writer Varric Tethras, but even he she sent back to Kirkwall. She’s purposefully gone out of contact with everyone, and it had crippled the only relationship she had ever had…

            “I’m so sorry…” The woman whispered, closing her eyes tight. “Alistair, I didn’t know, I didn’t remember…”

            “Shhh,” Alistair whispered, scooting forward so that he could take her hands from her knees and fold them up in his again. “Shh, Ileanna, it’s alright.” He squeezed her hands gently. “I understand… But when you didn’t make contact, when I didn’t hear from you, I thought that you had just moved on, and it was easier that way. I mean, I keep in contact with everyone from time to time, but their lives have gone past the Blight, and I assumed that yours had to. And then there were all of the news stories ‘Where the Wardens are Now’ and the like, and you were always some big mystery. Part of me… part of me thought you’d skipped Ferelden completely. They said you’d been acting Teryna for a while, but after that you were just off the face of Thedas, and I guessed that I would let you have your peace, rather than terrorize you with memories that you didn’t want to dredge up…”

            Another long moment passed before either of them spoke, and Ileanna was grateful to Alistair that he could give her this. She stared at their linked hands, wanting to remember anything more than the night he spent in her tent in the Bannorn, wanting more than just fleeting touches and oaths. She swallowed hard, thinking of the man in front of her with his hands all over her, gentle and loving but calloused and hard at the same time. A warrior’s hands, but one trained in compassion as well as the sword. Ileanna’s cheeks darkened at the thought and she was glad once again for the thick curtains that lined her windows, else she might have just curled up into a ball and died.

            He studied her like that, though, and as the silence continued the clock ticked on and the sun beyond the strip of curtains rose higher and brighter, illuminating beneath the fabric and spilling across the floor. Alistair was surprised when she spoke, startled out of his own thoughts when she voiced hers.

            “What do we do now?” Ileanna asked, finally, and though she wanted to stretch, to move away from him and get her blood flowing so that she could think, she was too caught up in the comfort of his touch and the hands wrapped around hers. “I’m not sure what this all means…”

            “I want to help you remember.” Alistair decided after another moment, nodding his head. “If not remembering us, then remembering the Blight, and finding some… some closure, in it all.” He gave her a brilliant smile and another squeeze of her hands. “And if that… if that leads to us together again, then I can only be grateful.”

            Taken aback by his sudden, impassioned response, Ileanna could only choke out a surprised laugh. “I’m sorry,” she apologized when the hurt crossed his face again. “I’m sorry, it’s just – I’m seeing so many people to try and help me remember, and it’s only taken a few words from you to yank more from my head than the professionals have in a year.” She offered him a brief grin, though it was raw with desperate need to find herself in the mess that was inside of her mind.

            Alistair gave her a short, nervous laugh in return and finally released her hands, remembering himself. “Hey, what do you say we go get coffee together?” He asked, taking her by surprise yet again. “Maybe it’ll help you remember some stuff.”

            Though she didn’t want to admit at all how much this sounded like he was asking her out on a date, Ileanna smiled and gave him a nod. “We have to wait for your roommate to get back though.” She reminded him.

            There wasn’t much time to plan, however, because as soon as Ileanna spoke, there was a gentle knock at her door.


	6. Rutherford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I apologize wholeheartedly. This just isn't edited at all, tbh, and I'm not quite sure I like this chapter. In other news, Alistair drives a motorcycle and no one can tell me otherwise.

Ileanna stared at the door, frowning at it for a long moment. There were few people that she knew that had the authority to knock at her door, and generally she was left alone, even by them. After a glance at Alistair and his nod at her that told him he had more confidence in her than she did, Ileanna stood and made her way across her living room. She morphed her face into a small smile and unlatched the lock, opening the door a fraction so that she could see who it was.

\---

_The mages were locked inside just beyond the door, their screams prominent throughout the whole Tower chamber. The demons that they had gotten rid of were no match for the horrific sounds coming from the Harrowing chamber, but there was one man that was clearly in worse condition than Ileanna and her team. He knelt down before them, surrounded by some field of sorts that she couldn’t get through. Ileanna set Morrigan to work on it, but when the witch stepped forward, the man on his knees recoiled from their group._

_“Get away!” He shouted, and Ileanna could see the patch of the Templars on his shoulder._

\---

Maker, what was his name-

            “Cullen!” Alistair sat up on the couch, and Ileanna turned to him, opening the door further, confusion etched across her face. At least she knew his name, now, but that didn’t explain why he was knocking on her door. Another phantom of her past, come back to haunt her? Ileanna watched as Alistair walked forward to meet the other man.

            “Oh, there you are.” Cullen gave a little sigh of relief. “You weren’t home and I got worried. I checked with the other neighbors but they said that they saw you come in here after a fire alarm?” He looked between Alistair and Ileanna, and she realized immediately what was happening.

            “Your roommate is the Templar from Kinloch hold?” She rounded on Alistair her eyes wide. “How do you even know him?”

            “You were shacked up with the Hero of Ferelden?” Cullen scoffed, his eyes wide and turned to Alistair in complete surprise.

            “Whoa, Maker, hold on-“ Alistair’s cheeks were fire red and he took a breath to recover himself. “Ileanna, this is Cullen. He was in the Order with me before I was picked up by the Wardens.” He turned toward the other man, and Cullen’s expectant face made both of the former Wardens flush deep red. “And no, I wasn’t shacked up with her,” Alistair continued, and though Ileanna thought it was impossible she was sure that they were both redder than before. “I was in the shower when the fire alarm went off and I forgot my key. I ran into the Commander, and she let me stick around last night.” He cast Ileanna an apologetic glance when he used her former title, but he figured it would have been easier to refer to her as what Cullen knew her by. “There was no shacking up involved, now will you let me back into the damn apartment or do I have to beat the key out of you, Rutherford?”

            Ileanna cleared her throat to keep herself from laughing and backed away from the door so that Alistair could get through. Before he was out the door, however, Alistair turned to her with a relieved sort of smile on his face.

            “I’ll come by in a bit, okay? We can get coffee then.” He reached forward to take her hand and squeezed it gently. “Thanks for letting me stay the night, Ileanna.”

\---

Ileanna stared at the computer screen for a long time, her words glinting back at her, taunting her and challenging her to write more where she knew she could not. She had already discussed Ostagar, already gone through the Tower of Ishal, and Flemeth, but it was just as she told Alistair. She couldn’t remember anything past that up until the Archdemon, save for bits and pieces that she had recalled along the way. But those certainly weren’t important and it wasn’t as though she could openly admit to having _slept_ with Alistair, not when the world already knew that he had been her second in command…

            Ileanna’s cheeks flushed again at the memory. Alistair had left her apartment a little over an hour before, and as soon as he was gone Ileanna was scrambling throughout all of her pictures looking for something, _anything,_ that would have told her about their relationship. They had hid it well from the press, apparently. There was hardly a picture where the two of them were together, save for when all of the Wardens were in uniform. Had they already coupled while they were in Redcliffe? Were they together when they faced down the Archdemon, or had they put things to an end in order to put the Blight first?

            “What am I doing?” Ileanna whispered to herself, shaking her head. The blank pages stared at her, mocking her. Maker, she felt stupid. Stupid for thinking that she could do this, stupid for isolating herself from the world, stupid for ever assuming that she would be able to get through her life normally, and stupid for wanting her memories back. Worst of all, she felt stupid for wanting to know more about Alistair again because every time she was around him it was only harder and harder to deal with her life as it was…

            Ileanna didn’t have much time to sit and feel stupid, however. Just as soon as she was really on a roll with it, there was another knock at her door that startled her out of her reverie. She stood and slowly walked across her living room again, steeling herself for the confrontation that would eventually happen. When she opened the door, however, it was only Alistair with sunglasses and a smile on his face, a set of keys in his hand. Ileanna was almost surprised to see him – part of her hadn’t been sure that he was serious when he asked her out to coffee before he left.

            “I remembered my keys when I left this time.” He joked, leaning against her doorframe. He wore a simple sweater and jeans against the cool Guardian morning, and in his other hand he cradled the clothes that he had borrowed from her the night before. Draped over his arm was a leather jacket that she was surprised he owned.

          Ileanna stepped aside to let him in, taking the clothes that he offered back to her and – finding no better option – tossing them on her couch. She took her keys and sunglasses from her coffee table, pulled on a denim jacket, and slipped into the sneakers beside her couch. The young woman paused for a moment, looking down to her feet. Were high tops too informal? Would it be strange for him to see her in such casual shoes after their career together? Ileanna scoffed to herself, shaking her head clear of such thoughts. She was a young woman, a young noble woman no less, and she could wear whatever she wanted no matter the working relationship that she had with anyone. Still, though, she couldn’t help but hold her breath when she turned back to Alistair.

            “Ready?” Was all he asked, and when she nodded he turned to lead them out of the apartment building.

            Quietly, Ileanna exhaled the breath. She had nothing to worry about, nothing at all…

            “We’re going into the University district,” Alistair started, leading her down the steps to the parking lot. “There’s a café I go to there, and everyone’s really nice to me. It’s pretty lowkey, I- what?” he stopped, halfway down the steps, when he noticed that Ileanna wasn’t beside him. He looked back, finding her at the top of the steps with her hand over the railing, shaking ever so slightly.

            The University District. A slight shudder passed through Ileanna’s body and her hands shook harder than before. Ferelden’s top college – University of Denerim – stood on the grounds of the old Royal District. Where Drakon Prison loomed above the campus and castles, where the Blight had hit hardest. Ileanna’s stomach clenched and her heart jumped into her throat, clogging her windpipe and halting her breath for long enough that Alistair started to notice. She shook violently, images of the Blight passing through her head, of the Archdemon perched on top of the prison…

            Alistair reached out to put his hand gently on her shoulder, and Ileanna forced herself to calm down. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice surprisingly far away sounding despite the fact that he was practically speaking into her ear. “Ileanna, I’m so sorry, I should have thought about it harder, we don’t have to go, we can find something else to-“

            “No.” Forcing her body to calm, Ileanna shook her head. “No, I have to do this.” She hadn’t been much further than the few blocks surrounding the apartment complex in the year that she’d been living there, and she had to face it at some point. It was inevitable that she would return to the place of the Final Battle, and though she hadn’t thought it would be so soon, she wouldn’t want to do it with anyone other than a former Warden. And who better than her second in command? “I’ll be okay.”

            Alistair didn’t seem convinced, but he squeezed her shoulder gently and took her by the elbow to help her get down the steps. He led her past a number of cars in the lot, and when she started to get concerned that they would be walking all the way to the University District, he halted them beside a rather fashionably sleek motorcycle that had Ileanna nearly choking on her own spit.

            “My car is…” Alistair cleared his throat, and through her glasses she could see his face darken. “Well, Eamon says it’s not very practical for Denerim’s tiny streets, so I… well, I’ve got this…” He gave a short laugh, seeming to watch her closely for a hint of apprehension. Ileanna only wondered what car he was driving if it was so big, but she wasn’t quite so bothered by the motorcycle. She only wondered why he had such an ostentatious thing in the first place… “It’s okay, right? You’re not bothered by it?”

            “No, I’m not.” Ileanna smiled and the relief that flooded Alistair was almost comical to watch. Ileanna had been on a motorcycle before in her life, and she… strangely trusted Alistair. She watched him pull on his jacket and swing his leg over the bike, and took a second to admire it.

            The machine was a sleek black thing with two seats, clearly a new model that he took great pride in. She wondered where he got the money for it, but decided not to question when the roar of the engine sounded and her nerves seemed to calm with the loud noise. He backed out from his parking space so that he had enough distance to turn, and when he looked back to Ileanna to nod for her to get on, there was a hint of a mischievous smile on his face that she didn’t quite understand…

            Until she was on the back of the thing and the rear seat was so small that she had to scoot forward and press herself so tight against Alistair that the memories of their tryst in her tent came flooding back to her in an embarrassing head rush. Slowly, nervously, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed flush against him, her cheeks heating up so violently that the cool air against her skin almost shocked her. _He’s a good person_. Ileanna reassured herself. _There’s no way he’s taking advantage of you, he just doesn’t have a car_. She believed it. Alistair wouldn’t do something like this on purpose when he knew that she was so nervous about everything. In all likelihood, he just hadn’t thought about transportation until after he’d asked her out…

            Was this a date?

           Ileanna tightened her arms subconsciously around his waist, and she could feel – rather than hear – the chuckle that formed deep in his chest and shook his torso. Alistair reached down to pat her wrist gently once, and, without further communication, took off out of the parking lot.


	7. The Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyyy no more finals! Some crazy shit ahead, tho. Again, I really love modern fantasy.

Ileanna would have to admit to herself that Alistair was an impeccable driver. He wove through Denerim’s streets professionally, and in the light early morning traffic he was able to expertly maneuver his way around buildings while subtly impressing his passenger. He pulled into a space at the University and she was almost surprised before she remembered that he was a student there. He had a parking permit, of course.

            When they were both off of the bike, Alistair grinned at her cheekily. “Fun?” He asked, sliding his keys into his jacket. He held out his arm to her before he could stop himself, and Ileanna was just as surprised when she wrapped her hands around his elbow with a smile on her face. It felt almost too natural, and she was startled by her own boldness the second they started walking, but neither felt the need to correct it.

            The University campus spread throughout the old Palace District, and though there were still some places that needed mending after the Blight hit, Ileanna was grateful to notice that the city had rebuilt itself rather quickly in the time that she had been estranged from society. There were only a few students out this early in the morning, and Ileanna felt confident in herself enough to slip her sunglasses over her head while they walked, pushing her bangs out of her eyes so that she could take in the whole campus.

            It was beautiful, if she was going to be honest. She could almost ignore the remnants of destruction while they walked through the old Historical buildings. There were more new buildings since she had been there last, before the Blight that was, and in the distance she could see the edges of a tree-lined green where the spring was starting to show in the blossoms on the branches. They walked closer to the main courtyard, and Ileanna was almost actually having a good day before she finally saw it.

            In the center of the courtyard a particularly ostentatious marble statue stood above all of the trees, in the middle of a giant pool. It was a fountain, she realized as she watched the water spit from the tip of the sword that the marble figure held aloft. It was a typically Andrastian pose, and Ileanna would have believed it to be the Prophetess herself, were it not for the battered uniform the figure war, or the head of an Archdemon in the hand that she did not hold aloft.

            Ileanna stared up at the giant marble figure of herself and felt her stomach churn with nauseated disdain. Alistair reached up to grip her arm to attempt to turn her away, but she wouldn’t have it. She stared up at the offending fountain statue, bile rising in her throat. She swallowed it down, and the process repeated again and again until she could fully stomach the image in front of her. There was a small crowd standing around the statue at this point, some wearing masks – Orlesians, she supposed – some carrying sketch pads and others, older men and women, taking pictures. Propelled by her revulsion, Ileanna moved forward, barely hearing Alistair’s objections as she went.

            “Ileanna, please,” Alistair hurried alongside her, reaching out to take her arm again though she still wouldn’t let him hold her back. “You’re not ready for this, Ileanna, please don’t force yourself to-“

            Batting his hands away from her, Ileanna strode toward the fountain with quick, jerky steps that halted only when she was at the base. There were people at her sides, and while she stared up at the figure, she could hear short bursts of whispers.

            “Is that her?”

            “It looks like her.”

            “Maker, that’s the Hero!”

            “It couldn’t be, she hasn’t been seen in-“

            “No, that’s definitely her!”

            This was what she had been avoiding. Ileanna didn’t dare take her focus away from the fountain while she heard the people whispering busily around her. She only jerked to the side when a hand that wasn’t Alistair’s landed too hard too fast on her shoulder. The glare in her eyes lessened when she saw that it was only some teenager that stared at her, wide-eyed, the startle in his expression softening her resolve.

            “Are you her?” He asked her, and his voice cracked and wavered uncertainly.

            “Yeah, kid,” Ileanna forced her mouth open to reply, and the wonder in the kid’s expression skyrocketed. “That’s me.” She jerked her head toward the fountain. “Hero of Ferelden.”

            “Can I take a picture with you?” He asked, the eagerness in his voice finally melting the woman.

            Ileanna gave a strained smile as her consent, passing up an apologetic glance at Alistair who only gave her a gentle smile in response. There was something about his expression that put her off, but Ileanna didn’t have time to question it. The kid had his phone out, and she was leaning down to take a picture with him when more people were approaching.

            “That’s the hero?” A few people whispered. She heard varying responses, but when the kid leaned away from her and grinned a big thanks, Ileanna could only force a polite smile in reply.

            There were too many people and all too soon, crowding her and taking her space. Each of them were eager for handshakes or a picture and Ileanna felt her throat clenching up and her heart pumping double time in her chest. She stepped back, politely declining to hug an old woman, but she hit the edge of the fountain and her panic increased tenfold, cornered with nowhere to move and surrounded by a crowd of grateful Fereldens.

            “Alistair!” The Hero called out, her remaining breath leaving her with the cry for help. Silence followed, and the crowd turned to face her savior as he passed.

            “Prince Alistair?” Ileanna could hear a few voices whisper when he passed. “Alistair Theirin? Maric’s son?”

            “The Hero and the Prince?”

            “Together?”

            “They _were_ both Wardens-“

            The whispers were too much, the crowd closing in again and Ileanna clutched onto Alistair’s arm when he got to her, letting him practically drag her away from the crowd once they parted almost reverently for him. Her mind was racing, her heart beating in her chest so quickly and her lungs heaving to get any little ounce of oxygen, but the only thing that she could register was-

            … Prince? 


	8. The Prince

They had finally halted in front of the café that Ileanna was sure Alistair had intended them to go to before she could finally organize her thoughts. In all of what she could remember – the good and the bad – where had Alistair being the Prince gone? Surely, that was something she couldn’t forget. Surely she would have known soon enough after the death of Cailan? Surely she had _known_. If she and Alistair were as… close as they had been, then he would have told her, right?

            “What in the Maker’s name-?” She started, but the other former Warden was quick to round on her.

            Alistair’s cheeks were bright pink, much to his credit, and he looked absolutely mortified. She knew what he felt, of course, but she continued to stare at him expectantly. She’d told him about her weaknesses, the least he could do was tell her about his. Especially if he was trying so hard to be a part of her life again.

            “I didn’t want to tell you again.” Alistair finally admit, reaching back to rub at the prickling hairs on the back of his neck. Again. So he had told her before. Was this what he had meant when he spoke about Redcliffe the night before? When he ‘told her everything’? Did he tell her that he was a Prince? “Especially after you were the one that worked so hard to get me where I am, I just… didn’t want to burden you with that again.”

            “What are you even talking about?” Ileanna gasped, exasperated by his secretive speech and exhausted by the day already. “Alistair, just… just do this for me, please?”

            She must have looked pathetic, because he took pity on her almost immediately. Slowly, the prince reached out to take her wrist, leading her gently into the café that they stood in front of. “I come here because they keep quiet about me,” he stated simply, nodding to the woman at the counter. “They’ll afford you the same courtesy, I’m sure.” Alistair gave her a short, strained smile. “Come on…”

            He led her to a secluded booth table in the corner of the café, gesturing for her to sit. Ileanna took a place at the booth, folding her hands on the table in front of her while Alistair sat across from her. She looked up at him after a moment of silence had passed, waiting for him to continue his explanation, but not pushing him to. As far as Ileanna was concerned, he could take all the time he needed.

            “We were going to Redcliffe because we were searching for help from Eamon,” Alistair began, mimicking her gesture and folding his hands on the table. He stared down at his crossed thumbs, rarely looking to her while he spoke. She was grateful that he took the time to start from the beginning. “We were leaving Lothering with Morrigan, Leliana, and Sten, and I spoke to you about my past…” He finally looked up at her, a little sheepishly, as though he hoped she might suddenly remember the discussion. When Ileanna showed no signs of recollection, he let out a sigh and blustered on. “When I was a child, I lived with Eamon. He told me that my mother was a cleaning girl at the manor, and that I was…” His breath caught, and for a moment he looked positively chagrinned **.** “I was King Maric’s son.” For a moment, Ileanna expected herself to have some kind of revelation, but her mind was strangely, surprisingly blank. Alistair huffed and heaved on with his tale. “I was raised a bastard, but Eamon was good to me, until he married his Orlesian wife.” Ileanna remembered the woman from the picture where she had seen a spider in Zevran’s hair. The Arlessa was practically waifish beside Eamon, but Ileanna couldn’t remember her voice or much of who she was. “She hated me, and ultimately I was sent off to the Chantry, where I _was_ training to become a Templar before Duncan saved me.” A soft, sad laugh escaped his lips, and he looked down to his folded hands once more.

            Ileanna could tell that this was very much so the shorter version of what he must have given her before they were in Redcliffe, but she was still grateful to hear it. It certainly changed the way that she would view her memories with him…

            “I slept with you knowing that you were the only heir to the throne?” She asked, her eyes wide. Maker, if her parents were around then they would kill her. Well, her mother would kill her. Her father would be torn between congratulating her and giving her a stern lesson on the etiquette of sleeping with the Blood Prince.

            Alistair’s cheeks colored, but he looked a little more upset than she would have liked. “Well I mean, it didn’t really mean much then-“ At the scandalized, pain look this received, his whole face turned an embarrassed red. “I mean, that I was a prince,” He stammered, and Ileanna could have laughed she was so unreasonably relieved. “It didn’t mean much that I was some bastard prince from Redcliffe…” He cleared his throat. “You were all that meant at the time, really… You and the Blight.”

            _Maker, you’re beautiful…_

            The words resonated deeply within Ileanna’s mind, the quiet oath in Alistair’s voice that she couldn’t place a memory to. She looked up to him, biting on the inside of her cheek so that she could give herself time to think of a reply.

            “Is that why you’re going to law school?” _Andraste’s tits, Ileanna,_ she chided herself. _You could have done better than that._

            To her relief, however, Alistair let out a hearty laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping his voice low in the café. “Yes, that’s why I’m going to law school.” He explained. “The Landsmeet was a complete shamble, if you don’t remember,” he clarified. She was grateful that she didn’t. “When I’m king, I can’t go around dueling people for the throne – that would be unseemly.”

            Ileanna scoffed, shaking her head. “I hate to break it to you, _your highness_ ,” she grinned cheekily, and was pleased to see the tinge of pink return to Alistair’s cheeks. “But that’s Ferelden politics, for you.”

            Alistair let out another laugh, shaking his head. “Forgive me, _my lady_ ,” he jabbed, casually reminding Ileanna of her place among the nobility of Ferelden. Her cheeks colored in turn, and she looked down at her hands again. “I’m not so well versed as you, apparently.” He gave her a grin, and Ileanna was glad that the strange gravity of the situation had dissipated into laughs. She could almost forget the crowd and the fountain and the Blight once again.

            Ileanna let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “I do miss it, sometimes,” she replied after a moment. “Court in Highever, I mean. I miss my father parading me around, Gilmore getting jealous when all the other young men would give me their attention” A fond smile graced her lips at the memories. She was glad that she was able to keep this, at least. “We held a pretty big party for my name-day when I was fourteen, and Thomas Howe interrupted his older brother and I while we were dancing to _duel him_ for my hand when he was only _twelve_.” She giggled, but it was almost too late to notice the sad smile on Alistair’s face.

            “What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head.

            “Nothing, it just… seems you were well loved.” The prince replied, unfolding his hands so that he could lift one to rest his chin on. He smiled to her, tilting his head slightly, and she realized suddenly that… they had been flirting. Or at least, Alistair was trying to flirt and there she was going on about her younger years and being practically _engaged_.

            “Oh Maker, I’m so sorry,” Ileanna breathed, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment once more. “Forgive me, Alistair, here I am rambling, and I’ve probably already told you half of this already.”

            “The engagements, yes, but the duel is new.” He grinned and she was grateful for his kind nature. “How would I ever think of competing with Thomas Howe after that?”

            “Well, Thomas Howe was not half so charming as you,” Ileanna muttered, her boldness getting the better of her.  She sat up straight, her face almost permanently red at this point. “I mean-“

            “Hello, you two,” A pleasant voice cut Ileanna off from embarrassing herself even further. She looked gratefully up at the young woman that had been standing at the counter, who had come over with two sheets of paper in her hands. “I’m so sorry that I took so long,” he continued, winking at Ileanna. “We’re a little understaffed right now, but here are our menues.” She handed them both one of the short, thick sheet of paper with the café’s item list. Ileanna took it happily and gave it a cursory glance while the woman continued. “Our special tea is coconut, caramel, and marshmallow black tea, and we just got in a new shipment of fair trade organic medium blend coffee from Antiva.” Fair trade in Antiva? Ileanna thought whoever had arranged that was a miracle worker. “I’ll let you have a moment to decide, and I’ll be back when you need me, okay?”

            The young woman left in a flurry of movement, and Ileanna was left to stew in the embarrassment that she left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note that I forgot to add at the end of the last chapter, I just want to say that I'm so very grateful for all of the positive feedback that you've all given me. It means so much to know that there are people who enjoy what I have to give them, and I'm thankful for every bit of it. As a writer, these are what motivate me and keep me posting and doing what I enjoy. Again, thank you all so very much.
> 
> Expect more soon :) I had quite a few hours of plane riding after the semester ended, so I took the time to keep writing to make up for what I lost during finals. 
> 
> I love you all :D - Sam <3


	9. Background Check

Ileanna sipped at the specialty tea that she had ordered, letting the sweetness warm her to the bone and soothe her frazzled mind. A plate of light colored macarons sat between them, a recipe that the waitress assured her the baker got from a renowned Orlesian pastry chef. Ileanna had long since assumed that most Orlesians were renowned pastry chefs, but she hadn’t said anything to the happy waitress. The young woman was too sweet to them to make any snarky comments at her dispense.

            Alistair nursed a coup of strong Ferelden coffee, and he was the first to reach across the table and take one of the pastel cookies. He squished it down and ran his finger along the edge where the creamy pink filling had leaked out, and brought the excess frosting to his lips when he was satisfied. Something clearly alarmed him, however, because he made a surprised face and scrunched up his nose briefly, which Ileanna couldn’t stop herself from laughing at.

            “What’s wrong with it?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. “Too sweet for you, _your highness_?”

            “No!” Alistair objected, his neck turning pink in embarrassment. “It tastes… like… a flower! Cookies aren’t supposed to taste like flowers!”

            Ileanna allowed herself to laugh at him, her eyes closing tight to dam amused tears. “Well you’re supposed to bite into it, for one thing,” she laughed, retrieving a greyish pastry from the plate. She carefully bit into the crust of the cookie, pleasantly surprised that it was tea flavored. She hummed her approval at the buttercream filling and gave Alistair a close-lipped, cheeky smile. “The cookie takes away from the strength of the cream.” Bravely, she swiped at a glob that he missed from the edge of the macaron and licked the frosting off her finger. “Rose.” She nodded, pleased with the taste and happily ignoring Alistair’s poorly hidden shock at her brazen gesture. “It’s not so bad. I think you have something of a brutish palate.” She gave a short laugh. “That’s going to have to change _real_ fast if you’re going to be king.”

            Alistair’s brow furrowed, his lips turning down before he bit into the cookie. “What makes you say that?” he asked, mouth still full of pink pastry. “I eat plenty of stuff.”

            “I’m sure you do.” Ileanna remarked, raising a thick eyebrow. “We’re going to have to work on your manners, too,” she finally laughed, shaking her head. “Maker help us all if the King talks with his mouth full in front of the Orlesians. Has Eamon taught you nothing?”

            Alistair’s cheeks colored again, and he looked away from her to finish off the bite of cookie. “It’s different with you,” he explained, gesturing between them. “Always has been. With you, no one was worried about upsetting the nobility, surprisingly enough. You were our commander, not our Teryna. And you’re one to talk!” He added in a huff. “We were at camp one night while we were crossing the Bannorn after we helped the Dalish, and Zevran kept making jokes. He made a particularly tastefully done reference to your ass and you were laughing around your rations like the worst of us.” He huffed, crossing his arms, but there was no real anger underneath his attitude. “Some noble woman _you_ are.”

            The amusement left Ileanna almost as soon as she had come, replaced again by the familiar dejected feeling she experienced on a regular basis. She would have given anything to remember such a fun story, but it eluded her. For some strange reason, she had supposed that her memories would just come back to her easier, now that Alistair had come along. There had been such an influx of them since the night before that, while she had been overwhelmed at first, she felt happy for once. Though they were small and practically meaningless – all besides that _one_ – she was glad to have them back in her possession, like they were secret things that if anyone else found out she would be in trouble for. She felt like a girlfriend listening to her boyfriend compare her to his ex. She felt like an idiot. Again.

            Quietly, Ileanna finished off the macaron in her hand and sipped at her tea once more, staring into the caramel colored liquid.

            “Oh, Maker, Ileanna, I’m so sorry,” Alistair reached across the table to place his hand over hers, and for some reason she was comforted by it. “I should have thought about what I was saying, I’m such an idiot, please, forgive me?” He looked at her with such pleading eyes that she could hardly bring herself to actually even feel upset with him at all. She offered him a small smile instead, setting her tea down to place her other hand above his.

            “It’s alright, Alistair,” she replied. “Sometimes I forget that I forgot everything, too.”

            They spent their time making idle conversation, and after a while Ileanna felt like she was finally able to rebound from it all. Alistair’s presence had lifted her spirits significantly, especially after she remembered their… relationship in her tent. While she still didn’t feel like she knew all of him, it was easier to breathe now that some of the gaps had been filled. Now that she remembered his face and his voice and… and the feeling of her hand in his, which she was surprised to realize she had done as they left the café. Her attachment to his arm earlier had been more of a pleasant joke, but this…

            He was holding her hand, and she wasn’t sure how she felt because it seemed like it was too fast but it felt so right at the same time…

            “Hey, Alistair?” Ileanna broke the pleasant silence between them while they walked away from the café an hour and a half later, after paying their bill and tipping the young waitress generously. “Can I ask you something?”

            “As if we haven’t been asking each other things for the past two hours?” He grinned cheekily at her, and she was pleased that he seemed to not notice or mind the connection at their hands. “Go for it.”

            “How come you’re living in that apartment building?”

            The silence returned, stranger than it had been before but not strained or awkward, at least. Alistair cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand.

            “I got the deal from Leliana,” He admit after a moment, which was surprising to Ileanna. She knew the Orlesian woman had connections, but in a crummy apartment in Denerim? She hadn’t expected the lay sister’s reach to extend that far. “She works very closely with the Divine now, did you know?” Ileanna shook her head, but that had answered her unasked questions well enough. She’d stopped writing to Leliana when she went out of contact with everyone else. She was glad that the other woman was happy with herself, though. Or at least, she should have been if she was chummy with the Divine. “Well, anyway,” Alistair continued, pleasantly squeezing Ileanna’s hand. “She said she knew the landlord gave a discount to the Wardens and Templars, and well, I’m both, or at least I used to be, so I went and applied.” He smiled over at her, his sunglasses hiding the way his eyes crinkled at her. “What about you, how’d you get there?”

            Ileanna’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She hadn’t been keen to talk about the past year with anyone, even her therapists. It seemed like talking to Alistair would just make everything more real and just… worse.

            “I was… I was in a bad place, after I left Highever,” she finally admit after a moment, staring down at her feet as they walked. “Fergus had to take over, and while I could have stayed – he told me I was completely welcome, actually – I just couldn’t be around there anymore. I remember a fierce need to go home during the Blight, but all I could think of when I got there, when I had been there and dealing with nothing but extended absolute druffalo shit and bad memories,  was that I just couldn’t stand it anymore.” Ileanna didn’t dare to look up at Alistair, afraid of his judgement when he found out what a coward she was. “I told Fergus that he could call on me whenever he needed me, and I just… drove out. I went to Amaranthine at first and… and I-“ Her throat clogged, but she forced on. “I stayed with Nathaniel Howe, which… wasn’t so bad at first. And then I moved on to Denerim, just kind of wandering, until I saw the complex advertising their discount…” She gave a short, rough laugh. “I used my military pay and started writing…”

            “You stayed with Nathaniel Howe?” Of course that was the only thing he picked up on.

            “I got him some of his property back and he knew I didn’t have a place to say.” Ileanna stated, harsher than she would have liked. “I’m sorry,” she continued after a moment of silence passed between them. She noticed that Alistair still hadn’t let go of her hand however, which she took as a good sign. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you, that was rude of me.”

            “It’s alright,” Alistair squeezed her hand gently, which more than lifted her spirits. “I should have known better than to ask you about something that you probably didn’t want to talk about anyway.” He looked over to give her a short smile. Ileanna was grateful that he still didn’t withdraw his hand from hers. “Is there anything else you wanted to do in town while we’re here?”

            Grateful for the change in subject, Ileanna thought for a moment. She didn’t have anything to do, really. She didn’t know anyone that still lived in Denerim, and she certainly hadn’t been planning on doing anything else that day. But suddenly the thought of staying in town with Alistair was much more appealing than sitting around in her apartment all day wallowing in forgotten memories…

            “Let’s just walk for a while.” Ileanna replied after a moment, perfectly content to stroll around town with Alistair’s hand carrying hers. “I haven’t been in the city proper for a while now.”

            Though she was perfectly content with this, the universe seemed to deem that Ileanna would not be allowed to have just one afternoon without the assault of her memories and her sadness. Alistair’s phone rang after a minute more into their stroll, and the two were forced to step aside from foot traffic so that he could hunt down his mobile and answer it. They stood in a narrow alley with only a few inches between their chests, and Ileanna almost had the decency to be embarrassed before she saw Alistair’s eyes widen when he caught the caller ID.

            “Eamon?” He asked, the surprise clear in his voice and expression. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

            Ileanna didn’t have long to eavesdrop, for her phone went off immediately after he spoke. She fished it out of her pocket, and reacted much the same as Alistair had when he saw who was calling him.

            “What’s the matter, Fergus?” The young woman asked when she held her answered phone to her ear, turning her body away from Alistair’s as much as she could while still leaving space between them.

            “-Well you wouldn’t believe it, but I’m standing with her right now-” Alistair remarked in the background.

            “Where are you?” Fergus demanded, the concern in his voice outweighing the hard edge by just a fraction. “Ileanna, tell me you’re safe-“

            “I’m in Denerim.” Ileanna replied just as Alistair said the same to Eamon.

            “Thank the Maker,” Fergus sighed, but he didn’t give her time to ask why she would do such a thing. “Ileanna, you have to do something – you have to get to Amaranthine _immediately_.”

            “What do you mean?” Alistair questioned Eamon, the surprised wiped clean by an alarming expression of absolute terror on his face.

            “There’s Darkspawn!” Fergus nearly shouted at his sister’s silence, the words sending ice through Ileanna’s veins, nearly knocking the breath out of her and rooting her to the spot with her mouth hanging open in stupor.

            “Darkspawn?” Alistair asked through his phone, his voice hitching up an octave.

            Ileanna’s phone dropped from her hand while she turned mechanically to face Alistair. She opened her mouth to speak just as he did, and neither of them were able to stop their words from interrupting the other, even if they had wanted to, so instead they spoke together, the fear palpable in the air between them.

            “There’s Darkspawn in Amaranthine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter that took so long, guys. Now that I know where I'm going with this, I can finally get some things done. We're gonna start heavily - and I mean really heavily - leaning away from game plot timeline here. Like, really really leaning here, like.... to the far /far/ right from the plot. That being said, I'm so very grateful for all of the extremely positive feedback. Especially to AO3 user Sylversmith, who inadvertently helped me figure out the 'why we live next to each other' subplot.
> 
> I wish I could draw well enough to put down that scene at the end how I was picturing it in my head, it seemed really awesome at first, and now I'm not so sure how I feel.
> 
> Thank you all so much! More to come soon now that I have a concrete idea of what I'm doing - Sam<3


	10. Authority

“Ileanna! Ileanna!” Her brother’s shouting from her phone on the ground brought the former Warden-Commander back to her senses. Ileanna bent down to pick her phone up, and she was immediately back into business mode. She did her best to ignore Alistair’s pleading with Eamon in the background, her attention focused solely on Fergus.

            “What do you need me to do?” She asked, squaring her shoulders. It felt natural to be so calm in the face of such an impending shit storm, and though she couldn’t remember a lot from the Blight, she could remember being a commander. “How many are there, what are the Banns saying?”

            “There’s practically an army of them.” Fergus replied, and she wished she could tell what he was doing at the time. She couldn’t hear anything in the background, though, so her hopes were dashed. Where was he learning this from? She desperately hoped that it was only the news and he wasn’t on any front. “Not as bad as the Blight, but…” And Ileanna could hear the insinuation in his voice. It could get there. It could be worse. “The Banns are calling their forces together, but Highever is the only stronghold up here besides Vigil’s Keep, but the Darkspawn have already seethed their way into there. I’m going to put out a call for who I can across Ferelden, but there’s not much I can do. I need you to gather your troops, sis. I’m reinstating the Wardens.”

            “You’re – you’re what?” That caught her off guard. She hadn’t expected him to ask that of her. She hadn’t expected to ever need to put her uniform on again, and the horror that passed across her face at the prospect had Alistair shushing Eamon on his phone. “Do you even have the authority to do that, Fergus? The Wardens are a-“

            “I am the highest authority that Ferelden has right now.” Her brother remarked, and though Ileanna could swear that she had the Prince standing right beside her, she kept her mouth shut. Alistair was technically still a student, and as a Prince he had little real authority to do anything. Fergus was a full Teryn in his right, and had a strong grip on northern Ferelden, at least. There were a number of lords that had pledged their loyalty to him, he was a prominent figure in current politics, and the Couslands were still second in line to the throne, after Alistair. Ileanna had no argument against her brother at all. “I am the leader of the Northern forces and _you,_ little sister, are the acting Warden-Commander.” The harshness of his tone and the reminder of the Blight stiffened Ileanna’s bones again. “I’m reinstating the Wardens. You took an oath, Ileanna. Ferelden needs you again. You can’t keep hiding in Denerim slums for the rest of your life.”

            Fergus hung up without any other explanation, leaving Ileanna winded and trying to recover against the wall in the alley. Alistair stared at her, with Eamon still barking into his ear, and the concern for her on his face nearly made her sick. Instead of speaking, she reached out and gently took the phone from his hand, taking a deep breath to prepare herself. She hadn’t spoken to many people besides her counselors, and Fergus for more than a year, and the past few days alone she’d done nearly twice that much communication with total strangers.

            “Arl Eamon,” She started, pressing Alistair’s phone to her cheek. The man on the other end stopped speaking immediately, probably surprised to hear her voice. “This is Warden-Commander Cousland. In Highever, Teryn Cousland is making a movement to reinstate the Wardens to fight, and he’s going to need a lot of backup getting the movement through. I need your help with a few things, if that’s arlight.”

            There was a moment’s pause before Eamon spoke. “What is it that you’ll need, Commander?”

            “I need you to back my brother’s movement. There will undoubtedly be a number of lords who oppose the addition of the Wardens to the forces, say we’re not needed. There were plenty the first time around and we don’t need another Ostagar.” There was a silence before Ileanna continued, where the weight of the memories that she still had pressed down upon her. “And I need your permission to reinstate Alistair as my Captain, once Fergus’ movement goes through.”

            “Why would you need my permission?” Eamon asked, confusion clear in his voice.

            “Well he’s the crown prince, and I just can’t have him running around getting stabbed by Darkspawn again, not when there’s no other legal heir.” She shrugged, flashing a small, tired smile to Alistair when he huffed in frustration beside her. “I would just feel better knowing that he’s allowed to be out there on the front with me.”

            “Well then you’ve got my permission.” Eamon stated. “Is there anything else you’ll need?”

            “Is there anyone you’d recommend to join us?” Ileanna asked, letting that sink in. There was great risk entailed in becoming a Warden, and if Fergus was able to reinstate them as a viable force, then Ileanna would need all the soldiers she could get. It felt better to ask before she had to start conscripting, anyway.

            “My forces are already gathering to march toward Highever tomorrow,” Eamon replied. “But if I find anyone that meets your criteria, I will detain him for you.” Eamon gave a pause before speaking again, his voice much softer now, and the young woman swore she could hear a hint of a smile in the old man’s voice. “It’s good to hear from you again, Ileanna.”

            “You too, Eamon,” Ileanna replied, though she could not remember much of the man besides Landsmeets when she was a much younger woman. She wondered, briefly, where the informal nature in their relationship had come up for him to address her so, but thought better of asking. Eamon could learn of her trials at a later date, if he so wished. “May the Maker be with you in your journey, Eamon.” She added, as a final thought.

            “May He be with us all.” Was Eamon’s only reply before he ended the call.

            Slowly, so that she wouldn’t drop Alistair’s phone as well, she handed the device over to the shocked prince, giving him a brief apologetic smile. Her hands shook ever so slightly when the weight of it was gone, and Ileanna prayed that Alistair didn’t see it. “I think…” She spoke, her voice controlled with the effort of not breaking down in an alley in the city. “I think I need to go home now, Alistair.”

            The Prince was already on the move, taking Ileanna’s arm to keep her upright and moving her out of the alley and toward the university’s main parking lot. “Don’t worry,” he said as he propelled her forward, keeping her on her feet with his very presence. “We’re going to be alright, there can’t be another Blight this soon, everything is going to be okay, Ileanna.” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of something rather than her, but Ileanna didn’t mind that, not so much. At least one of them would be confident by the end of this.

            When Alistair managed to get her onto the back of his motorcycle, she held onto him for dear life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, and I apologize for the lateness/crumminess of it, in general. Thanks for everyone's feedback and love - Sam<3


	11. Reporting Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm sorry it took so long, but I totally thought that I already posted this chapter. Turns out I didn't, and I apologize heavily for it.
> 
> That being said. Mild trigger warning for an anxiety attack and mentions of vomiting ahead. It ends after the fifth paragraph, which includes a short single sentence line in the counting. 
> 
> Thanks, everyone! - Sam<3

Ileanna collapsed right when she got into the door, sinking against the cool wood in search of any type of support. Alistair stood next to her, at the ready but completely unsure of himself or what to do. He had been the one to let them into her apartment, Ileanna’s hands had been shaking so bad when she went to retrieve her keys from her jacket pockets that he had to take them from her when she finally retrieved them and unlock her door instead. She hadn’t made any objections when he gently led her into her apartment and closed the door behind them, so he stayed there, watching the beginnings of her breakdown and not being able to help.

            “Ileanna?” Alistair was suddenly kneeling at her side, his hand placed on his shoulder, concern clear in his expression that she couldn’t quite see. Her vision was swimming and all she could make out of him was the shape of a man before her and the frown on his face. The hand on her shoulder shifted to cup her face gently, and she steeled her will to keep herself from pushing him away. “Ileanna what can I do for you, what do you need?”

            She was being selfish. Alistair hadn’t put up any objections to being her Captain again, and she knew without a doubt that he must have been experiencing negative side effects of the Blight just as bad as he was. He had been on top of Drakon Prison with her, he had seen her take the head of the Archdemon, had fought it himself. He had been a Warden far longer than she had, and she still had the audacity to fall apart when she knew that he must have been aching to do the same. She was selfish, stupid, and completely incompetent to lead a force of soldiers, and here they were asking her to do it again after she completely messed up the first time! Maker, she felt sick… She felt…

            No, she actually really felt sick.

            Without warning him, Ileanna lurched away from Alistair and half ran, half stumbled through her apartment to the bathroom, where she fell to her knees and heaved into the open toilet, not bothering to close the door behind her. Alistair was there in a second, gathering her hair in one hand to keep it out of her face while rubbing her back gently with the other. She sobbed between heaves, emptying the contents of her stomach out in an anxiety driven sickness that she didn’t know if she could stop. What made it all worse was Alistair.

            Alistair, who had seen her thoughtlessly lunge into battle and slay an Archdemon, Alistair who had watched her slaughter hundreds – if not thousands – of Darkspawn, Alistair who had been with her at her Joining, followed her into battle, and stood beside her as she fearlessly slaughtered demons who constantly taunted her with the destruction of her family. He had witnessed her only as a deadly warrior and a fierce lover, and in the single day since their reunion he had watched her fall apart into a pathetic excuse of a woman and surely someone who did not deserve the title Warden-Commander, let alone Hero of Ferelden.

            Ileanna’s stomach clenched again, but there was nothing more that she could heave into the toilet. She raised a shaky hand and flushed the contents down, staring at the edge of the bowl while Alistair continued to gently soothe her.

            “Go away.” She whispered when she finally could, her voice shaking with the effort to make sound. “Please, I don’t want you to see me like this…”

            “Well I already have,” Alistair gently reminded her, only frustrating her further. Ileanna slapped the edge of the toilet bowl, letting out a strangled cry of anger. “It was just after your Joining,” the Prince continued, sitting on the edge of her tub and continuing to rub her back while she kept her head hung forward. “You had been so brave and held your head so high, but the second Duncan walked away and we were left alone you lost your lunch right there. We hardly even knew each other and I was holding your hair back, Ileanna, and that was not the first time. You had food poisoning for three days while we were traveling between Denerim and Redcliffe, you got a day flu after retrieving the ashes, you were anxious and scared just before the Landsmeet, and I have taken care of you every single time.” There was a stern note to his voice that Ileanna was surprised to hear. “So no, Lady Cousland, I will _not_ go away, and I will see you like this – alive and perfectly okay – for however long you deign to allow me to.”

            Ileanna let that sink in, the honestly and the severity in his tone affecting her a little bit more than his words. He had been right. She remembered her Joining, incredibly vividly. She hadn’t thought he would have counted it as one of his examples, but the number of listed occasions that she could not recall were certainly good ones as well. The young woman’s cheeks colored in her embarrassment, and without responding to him she raised herself from the bathroom floor and went to work cleaning out her mouth. Alistair maintained his seat at the edge of the tub, watching her patiently. It was a minute or so before he spoke again, but when he did Ileanna was glad that she had already spit out the mouthwash she had been gargling.

            “I had a good time on our date today.” He stated simply, and she was grateful that she could play off her choking as coughing against the water rinse in her mouth. “I mean it.”

            Bracing herself against the sink, Ileanna allowed a small smile to spread over her lips. She had known since the moment he asked her, but for some reason, the confirmation just made it feel all the better. It had been a date, after all. Rationally, no one would hold her hand like he had if it hadn’t been a date, but it just felt good to hear it acknowledged like that…

            “I did too, Alistair,” Ileanna said after a moment, turning her head to grace him with her smile. “Despite everything, I did too.”

            They decided to move their conversation to her living room after that, Ileanna claiming that she had been too jarred by the day to be alone. Alistair gladly agreed, plopping himself down on her couch with a strange familiarity while Ileanna picked up the clothes that she had thrown down there earlier. She took them to her bedroom, where she began the search for clean, comfortable clothes to pull on for the rest of the day.

            When she rejoined Alistair at the couch, he already had Ferelden News playing on channel ten, and the expression on his face was grim.

            “Thanks,” the perky reporter was smiling into the camera, her face strangely bright and excited, even for someone who was paid to look like that on a daily basis. “Well, Jacob, there’s a buzz of excitement going through the University of Denerim campus today. I’m here at the Statue of the Hero where, just this morning, a number of reports flooded in about sightings of the Hero herself.” Ileanna groaned, leaning her head back in an attempt to escape the horrible report. It had only been a few hours, could they ever give her a break?

            “Not only that, Jake,” the reporter continued, speaking to the anchor as though he were beside her. Ileanna hated the news, and her mood only worsened when the woman on screen continued with her perky attitude. “But there are a few saying that the Hero was seen here with _Prince Alistair_. The Hero, Lady Ileanna Cousland of Highever, and Prince Alistair were seen fleeing together. Some even say that Lady Cousland was being held in the Prince’s arms! None are sure where the couple fled off to, but all are fairly certain that a romance between the two former Wardens has been blossoming in the past year of Lady Ileanna’s disappearance.”

            Ileanna stifled another groan, not daring to look over at Alistair’s face. If it was anything like hers, it would be mortified and embarrassed, and she wasn’t sure that she could handle that. He had been the rock so far since their reunion, and she wasn’t about to take that from herself.

            “I’ve got some phone calls to make.” The commander grumbled, pulling herself from the couch just as the report changed from trash to the weather forecast for the next week. She turned to her kitchen, willing herself to not look back at Alistair when she spoke. “Let me know if they report anything useful out of Amaranthine.”


	12. Howe

“And there have been no sightings of Morrigan in the past year?” Ileanna asked, frowning into her phone receiver. “None at all?”

            “None.” The voice on the other end confirmed, the lilting Orlesian accent doing little to soften the blow of the news. “Wynne, however, is still in Ferelden, as far as I am aware.”

            “Thank you, Leliana,” Ileanna replied, affording herself a sad smile though she knew that the other woman couldn’t hear it. She wouldn’t be calling Wynne any time soon, the old woman needed her rest after the Blight, and Ileanna was more than willing to give it to her. Wynne had been a good friend, and was still a powerful mage, but Ileanna couldn’t ask her to return to the field. She spoke again after a silent beat that her thoughts left had passed, sighing softly. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to convince you to join me in glorious battle again?” She asked, laughing.

            “I am sorry, Commander,” Leliana continued, her voice soft and apologetic. “The work that I’m doing for the Chantry right now is too important to abandon to fight Darkspawn again, however impending the matter is. I’m sure there’s no sixth Blight on the line, no matter that your brother has called in the Wardens again.” Another pause. “I haven’t heard from Zev, either. By all means, he’s gone missing as well. I’m sure he’s busy doing something illegal in Antiva, again.”

            “Thanks Leli.” Ileanna replied. “It was good to hear from you again.”

            “Stay safe, Ileanna.” The Orlesian replied. “You and Alistair have the world ahead of you.”

            The phone cut off before Ileanna could reply, and she balked at the forwardness of the comment. Had… Had Leliana known, all this time? That woman surely did play most of her secrets close to her chest, though, and Ileanna had no room to complain…

            Still, the phone call left a bad taste in her mouth. Ileanna had contacted Leliana in hopes of recruiting her to the Wardens again, maybe seeing if she had heard anything from Morrigan or their old close-knit gang. It looked like half of her former forces were either out of commission or had been missing as long as she had. Alistair was the only one remaining, and he’d already agreed to be reinstated as her captain…

            “Looks like no one’s willing to join up again.” Ileanna finally turned out of her kitchen to face Alistair, who still sat on her couch, following the news closely. “Leliana is doing Chantry work, Morrigan is MIA –“ to which Alistair scoffed – “Wynne is… Old, and quite frankly I don’t want to put her through this again. Zevran is apparently under the radar in Antiva, and… and…” Try as hard as she might, Ilenna couldn’t wrack her brains for the names of her remaining forces. There was the Qunari, of course. And there had been a dwarf, she saw that in the pictures around the rooms, though the only thing she could remember from that was a sense of disgust, fear, and the heavy smell of alcohol. The commander furrowed her brow, trying to remember the two names… Who were they?

            “Sten and Oghren.” Alistair reminded her, finally turning away from the television to give her a short smile. “I don’t know where Oghren went after the Blight, but Sten returned back to Seheron, as far as I know, so you won’t be getting anything out of him.” He crossed his legs on the couch, allowing Ileanna room to crawl over and collapse at the other end where she had been before. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked, hovering beside her. “You don’t look so good.”

            “I’m going to be forced to conscript!” Ileanna practically shouted, throwing her hands up and startling the Prince. “We’re going to have to ride throughout Ferelden and conscript people for just a single battle!”

            “Relax, Ileanna,” Alistair countered, shifting forward so that he could place his hands on her shoulders. “There will be forces in Highever that we can meet up with, and there you can get a few men on our side.” He smiled at her, reaching up to cup her cheek again. “Just calm down. We’ll ride to Amaranth-“

            “Nathaniel!” Ileanna practically jumped off of the couch in excitement, throwing her hands up in delight. Alistair startled back from her, his eyes wide with shock and question. “Nathaniel said he would have joined the Wardens if he hadn’t been in the Marches during the Blight! We could go to Vigil’s Keep and recruit him and some of his men!”

            Alistair’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, the corners of his lips pulling down into a slight frown. “Ileanna…” he said softly, reaching a hand forward to bring her hands back down, taking them in his own and letting them rest in her lap. “I take it you don’t remember that part, then?” He asked, his shrewd expression turning into something akin to pity and… grief? Ileanna shook her head, tilting it slightly in question and indication for him to continue. “You… You killed Nathaniel’s father.” He stated simply, jarring the other warden. “For as long as I knew you, you swore to take revenge on the Howe family for what they did, and… And you got it, Ileanna. We went to Denerim to, well… ‘save’ Anora, and Rendon Howe was there in the Arl’s estate. You… you got your revenge, my lady, and it was… well, bloody to say the least.”

\---

_“Oh, so the great Hero returns, does she?”_

_The drunken slur of one of her oldest friends come from somewhere behind Ileanna. She turned in her seat at the bar, a grim smile on her face. She had been meaning to seek out Nathaniel for weeks, now, but she’d been too scared to leave her home, too anxious to even take a step out of the door. Highever had become her prison and her sanctum all together. She had finally made her way out to Amaranthine, though, and it felt good to get out of the manor. It felt better to sit in a seedy bar._

_What did not feel good was remembering. Remembering that her best friend’s family had taken the lives of her own. Remembering that she had sworn revenge on the very same people that she had  grown up with. Nathaniel was at least five years older than her, but she’d spent most of her childhood and teen years with him, with the understanding that the two were probably going to get married at some point. She didn’t very much like him in those terms, but they’d been fast friends, and she always imagined that she could deal with their union if it meant that nothing changed between them._

_But something had changed, and it had to do with the fact that Rendon Howe murdered her whole fucking family._

_She knew that Nathaniel had been in the Marches during the whole ordeal, but how was she going to explain to him that she just… felt so guilty, and worse, so_ angry _still. On top of that, it had practically been her fault that his lands had been taken away. Well, mostly Fergus’ fault actually, but the fact still remained that she had her title and he had… practically nothing. She’d managed to convince Fergus to allow her to return some of his lands, Vigil’s Keep, most importantly, but that didn’t mean that Nathaniel had any of the trappings that once came with it. It didn’t help at all that there was a giant hole in her memory where she was sure the solutions to all of their problems remained hidden. She hadn’t expected to see him in Amaranthine at all. She hadn’t expected to see him ever again._

_“Nathaniel.” Ileanna’s voice was full of pity for the creature in front of her. He had drunken himself silly, and it was clearly not the first time that this had happened. All the attractive charm that he had when they were younger had been taken away, replaced by the despair that had befallen him in the treachery of his father. Ileanna heard that Rendon Howe had been found dead in the basement of the Arl of Denerim’s estate, and she had little sympathy for that man, but for Nathaniel her heart ached. The news reported that the scene was so bloody it appeared to be a Darkspawn attack. Rendon had apparently sought safety in his basement, but the Darkspawn had been everywhere, Ileanna knew. “I’m sorry about your father.”_

_“Oh I’m sure you are.” Nathaniel spat at her, wavering in place. He was unsteady on his feet, and when she reached out a hand to hold him still he smacked it away. “I know what_ happened _, Ileanna Cousland, and I’m sure you’re right and good with the state of things now.” The glare that he gave her made it seem like he had sobered up almost instantly, and even his unsteadiness seemed to start to correct itself. He pinned her down with his gaze, blue eyes clear and steely._

_“I got you your lands back, Nathaniel,” she argued, a frown on her face. “I don’t know what more you could want from me. I thought you might understand, given the situation.” That your father killed my whole family, she thought. That he threw his hand in a plot for regicide, and would have killed me if I hadn’t gotten away. “I wish I could help you, but…” Ileanna took a deep breath, steeling herself against the outcome of her confession. “I don’t… I don’t remember anything. After the Blight, the Archdemon… I was in a coma for a week or so. I woke up and… and I just couldn’t remember.”_

_The ice in his eyes seemed to melt some, and Nathaniel’s set lips and glare turned into a confused frown. “You don’t… you don’t remember anything?” He asked, voice uncharacteristically soft._

_Frustrated tears sprang into Ileanna’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead she passed a hand through her hair and turned her gaze away from her old friend, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She’d had to explain this to too many people too many times, already. Even Fergus was having a hard time believing her, and it frustrated her to no end._

_“Nothing.” She clarified. “I remember bits and pieces, but mostly it’s just before Ostagar and after the Archdemon.” She didn’t include her nightmares, Nathaniel didn’t need that, on top of everything else._

_“Are you…” He sidled up to the bar beside her and leaned forward so that when she turned, she was almost face to face with him. “Are you still staying in Highever?”_

_Ileanna’s could feel the heat of her embarrassment creeping up her neck. “No, I… I left. Fergus is better, now, and he’s the rightful Teryn, so I don’t have much that’s left for me there. I don’t want to burden him anymore.” She turned to take a hold of her drink on the bar, but didn’t bring it to her lips. “I think I’m going to try and find a place in the city.”_

_Nathaniel’s lips quirked up into a devious smirk that she remembered all too well from their childhood. It meant adventure. It meant trouble, and suddenly that’s all she wanted. To throw away her Hero title and dig herself into the dirt just a little bit, for once._

_“You could stay with me…?”_


	13. Revelation

If Ileanna hadn’t already been sick before, she surely would have been now. An unsettling mix of understanding, disgust, and shame passed over her, making the young woman a little woozy and a little unsteady in her seat. She stared at Alistair, not wanting to believe him but knowing somewhere in the recesses of her memory it must have been true.

            _“Rendon Howe!”_

            The bloodied shout rang through her mind, clear and angrier than she had ever sounded in her life, but no memory accompanied it.

            The worst part was that somewhere, deep inside of her, she felt _good_. Ileanna had gotten her revenge. She’d taken a life for a life and a twisted part of her thought it still wasn’t enough. Rendon Howe’s life for what… hundreds of Couslands? Every soldier and every servant in that household had been part of her family, and the only lives she had taken were a handful of Howe’s men and his own. She knew, at one point, she had wanted to take Nathaniel’s as well. Delilah’s. Thomas’. Still though, Ileanna had the decency enough to recognize that it was a monstrous desire, and she was able to quench it when she caught the confused gaze that Alistair had pointed at her.

            “Ileanna?” He asked, as though the hard gleam in her eyes made him nervous. “What… what _happened_ between you and Nathaniel Howe?”

            His confusion only proved to make Ileanna feel more guilty than she already did.

            “You’re not going to like it.” She stated, frowning. When he made no indication of caring, she continued. “I told you earlier that after I left Highever, I was pretty much a wreck, right?” He nodded in confirmation and she blundered on. “I met Nathaniel in a bar in Amaranthine. It was after I had gotten his lands back, but he was still a shitfaced disgrace, so he confronted me. He said some weird things. I guessed that he was upset about his father, about his lands being taken away, but what could I have done about that? I thought Rendon was killed by Darkspawn or something, I didn’t know any better.” Ileanna sighed, passing a hand over her face. “Nathaniel knew, though. Thinking back, I can see it clear on his stupid face, he knew that I killed his father, but he kept it from me. Leverage, I guess, once I told him that I didn’t remember anything. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he used my naivety against me, we…” She afforded another pause, but Alistair’s expression looked like he already knew what was coming.

            “We were in a weird sort of relationship,” Ileanna barreled on. Now that it was coming out, she didn’t think she could stop it. “It was all power dynamics, now that I look back at it, but it was a kind of… friends with benefits sort of thing.” Alistair winced, and Ileanna felt awful. If only she’d known. If only she’d been better and really _tried_ to remember in those first few weeks, everything would be different. “But Nathaniel started to get violent towards the end-“ when Alistair tensed, fists balled up, she jumped to explain, reaching out so that her hands covered his, now. “No, no, not really towards me. In general, violence, which I know is no excuse, but he never hurt me. It was like all his pent up anger was building up, and if I hadn’t gone when I did I’m sure it would have unleashed hellishly. He would have told me everything, if I hadn’t left him, I’m sure. But it was on good terms that we parted, more or less. Our mutual benefits had run out, and that’s when I left for Denerim.”

            It had been about a month or two that she and Nathaniel had warmed each other’s beds, and she’d been pretty much under the radar that whole time. There’d been phone calls and emails but she just… didn’t respond to them. Most of them had been from authors and reporters, and Ileanna had just learned to ignore them, over time. Ignoring the past year or so had made it easier to crawl into bed with Nathaniel. The thought that he’d held her guilt over her head, never telling her but always hinting… She understood his violence, then. He was angry, he was upset. He deserved to be, really, but so did she. Power dynamics. That’s all their relationship had been…

            Alistair’s expression was frighteningly neutral. He stared at their hands, and it was a long while before he spoke.

            “I’m sorry.” He stated simply, looking up at her with sad eyes. “I should have never interrupted your life like I did and expected you to just, to just-“

            “Alistair.” Ileanna cut him off, knowing where he was going. She squeezed his hands tight and gave him as reassuring of a smile as she could muster. “I remember you.” She started, looking down at their joined hands, now. “I at least vaguely remember being with you, and Nathaniel is in the past. Whatever we had wasn’t a relationship and it wasn’t affection, and it’s gone and done now.” She glanced back up to him and afforded him another smile. “I remember caring about you, and I know you still care about me, so…” She took a deep breath, steadying herself and her convictions. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep trying to remember you. To care about you like I did.” Maker, she sounded like an idiot, but Alistair was smiling again and that’s all that mattered to her. “I’d like to try our relationship out again, if that’s alright with you.”

            “Well, we did already have a date,” Alistair grinned a little cheekily. “And we even got on the news, so I’d say we can keep giving it this shot.”

            Ileanna managed to laugh, and though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, she offered him the joy that she could. “We have to do what we can, Alistair,” she stated, squeezing his hands again. “Which means that I’m going to have to call Nathaniel and… make whatever amends necessary so that I can recruit him.” Or, if worse came to worse, she would conscript him when Fergus got the movement through. “Is that okay?”

            Alistair squeezed her hands in return and offered her a short smile. “We do what we must.”


	14. Chaste

Sitting on the couch, Ileanna held her phone to her ear, her lips turned down into a frown. She’d called once already, waited a few minutes, and called back again, and then once more, but Nathaniel still wasn’t answering. On the fourth ring of his phone, she sighed and locked her own, ending the call before it started. “I’ll call him again later.” She muttered, unlocking her phone again to dial a different number. “I’m going to get ahold of Fergus and let him know that we’re going to get on our way tomorrow, okay?” Alistair nodded beside her, and she offered him a smile in return while her phone continued to ring.

            “Ileanna?” Fergus sounded worse than he had earlier, if that was at all possible. “What’s up?”

            “Alistair and I are going to make our way to Highever tomorrow.” Ileanna began to explain. “We were going to stop at Vigil’s Keep and pick up a few men if any were willing to recruit, but I haven’t heard from Nathaniel. He’s not picking up his phone, have you heard from him?”

            “No, I haven’t.” Fergus’ tone suggested a frown, though, so Ileanna waited for him to continue. “There aren’t many men left over in the Keep, though, so that doesn’t surprise me. Not a lot stayed loyal to the Howes.” There was a note of anger in his voice, and Ileanna understood what he was saying. Highever already saw the downfall of a lot of Howe soldiers. Fergus probably didn’t want them, even if he knew he needed them. “Cut through the Bannorn and come to Highever first, I’m not sure what’s going on in Amaranthine, and I don’t want you there when you don’t have any forces with you.”

            That was reasonable. Ileanna entertained the thought of going through the Bannorn with Alistair again, and her cheeks flushed, which the other warden raised his eyebrows to, but she shook her head. There was no need to embarrass herself further by reliving that memory _again_.

            “We’ll leave early,” she replied to her brother instead. “But it’s going to take some time to get to you. Do you think you’ll be okay for a day and a night?”

            There was a silence on Fergus’ end that Ileanna wasn’t sure she liked, but he continued after a moment as though it hadn’t even happened. “They’re amassing just south of Amaranthine, so if you take the road through the Bannorn you should be fine.” He replied, only partially answering her question. She frowned at that, but decided not to question. “Hurry, but stay safe. More than like, I’ll see you day after tomorrow.”

            Ileanna nodded her confirmation even though her brother couldn’t see it. “I miss you, Fergus.” She stated.

            “I miss you too, Ileanna.” Came Fergus’ short reply, and though there was a smile in his voice, it was a sad one. “Stay safe, little sis.”

            “You too, Fergie.” Alistair snickered beside her, but Ileanna only shot him a look when she locked her phone again. “You might want to get packed,” she said in lieu of explaining herself. “And maybe let Cullen know what’s going on.”

            Clearing his throat, Alistair stood from the couch and nodded. “Right.” He agreed, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Ileanna knew how he felt. She stood after him, and the two walked to the door together in silence. “Listen, Ileanna-“

            “Would you like to come back for dinner?”

            Ileanna’s embarrassment at speaking over him showed clear in her shocked expression and colored cheeks. She cleared her throat, looking at the corner of the room, the floor, her hand on the door knob, but never at Alistair. “I mean,” she continued, clearing her throat again out of nerves. “I mean, uhm… So that, we’ll, er-“

            But Alistair’s eyes had only brightened, and the awkward expression on his face turned into actual enthusiastic joy. “I would like that,” was his response. She guessed that he might have been on the verge of asking her something similar before she accidentally cut him off. “I would like that a lot.”

            They stood there for a moment, staring at each other with the awkward tension rising above their heads. Ileanna’s hand still rested on the door knob, but she couldn’t bring herself to twist it open, not when she felt like there was so much more for them to say to each other…

            Then, ever so boldly, Alistair closed the space between them in a single step. Ileanna started at the movement, unsure of what to do, but before she could react at all, Alistair’s lips were placed against her cheek in a chaste, gentle kiss. They lingered there for a moment, perhaps a little too close to the corner of her mouth, but Ileanna was so startled by the gesture that she couldn’t have moved to correct it. The whiskers on his chin, the light stubble on Alistair’s cheek brushed against hers, sent a flare of heat across her skin as he moved away almost as quickly as he had come. Ileanna’s hand fell from the door in her surprise, and Alistair gave her a grin.

            A short burst of an embarrassed laugh tore its way through the prince’s throat before he was out the door, practically sprinting down the hall.

            Her breath knocked out of her from the gesture, Ileanna let the door slam shut on its own while she stumbled back to her couch.

\---

_“Or maybe I’m just being an idiot, maybe I’m making a huge fool of myself and you’re going to walk away laughing to go gossip with Morrigan about how much of an idiot I am.” Alistair frowned at Ileanna, though the hopefulness was still in his eyes._

_They’d parked the jeeps in a semi-circle that shielded their tents from the rough wind in the Bannorn, and Alistair had taken Ileanna to the side to speak with her privately. They stood away from the ring of vehicles and tents, though the campfire still illuminated Ileanna’s face. Alistair stood with his back to the camp, but she could still see the desperate expression on his shadowed face. The young woman’s heart rate skyrocketed when she realized what was going on._

_He was formally confessing to her…_

_“It might sound completely ridiculous, since we haven’t known each other long or anything, but… Ileanna, I-“ he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat to take a moment to gather his thoughts. “I care a great deal about you, Lady Cousland,” he stated, his head bowed and his eyes unable to meet hers. Ileanna sucked in a short gasp, but he continued, blustering on through his embarrassment. “We’ve been through so much, Ileanna, and I could just be imagining it, I don’t know, tell me if I’m wrong, if I’m being a fool or an idiot-“_

_“Alistair, I-“ Ileanna cut him off without knowing where she was going to say. It was without warning that the pent up emotions she had been bottling since Ostagar came spilling from her lips. “You’re not an idiot, Alistair,” she breathed, the words unable to come fast enough. Ileanna stumbled over her syllables to be able to get them out before he went away or either of them did something stupid. “I’ve been hiding, I – I haven’t wanted to say anything or do anything wrong and it all felt so silly at first but I – I –“ She halted herself briefly. He had used very careful language so as to not overwhelm her, and she would have to pay him the same courtesy. Ileanna took a deep breath to slow herself down so that she would not step over a line. “I care a great deal for you, as well.”_

_And then all caution was thrown to the wind. All careful words and hushed voices and steady breaths were gone when Alistair closed the small space between them and took her face between his rough, calloused hands. His lips were on hers before she could even gasp her surprise, rough in his urgency for the moment. Ileanna could tell he hadn’t found the time to shave that morning after they all hastily washed in the river. She could smell skin, deodorant, leather, and the sting of gunpowder on him, and even though it took her a moment to get past the shock she still wound her arms around his neck so that she could get more of that smell. More of the taste of his lips and the scratch of his chin against her cheek._

_It was all the embarrassing clack of teeth and short gasps of breath and Ileanna hated to admit that it was her first kiss, but it was all over too soon and she would have given anything to get more._

_“Maker’s breath, Ileanna,” Alistair whispered, his cheeks flushed and his hands still cupping her cheeks. She could feel his breath against her lips still, and it was all she could do to not close the distance between them once more. “Where have you been all of my life?”_

_A half-smile twisted up the edge of the young woman’s lips. “Waiting.” Was all she allowed herself to say before she leaned forward and kissed him again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, I thought I had posted this, but apparently I completely forgot that I hadn't. 
> 
> In other news: kissing is practically my favorite activity, but I find that I still cannot properly write it.
> 
> Also, this chapter felt really shitty, and I'm so sorry that I subjected you all to this. 
> 
> I still refuse to believe that one can travel so swiftly between Denerim and Highever as described in the game, no matter the type of vehicle you're driving.


	15. Fighter

Ileanna sat at her couch, her eyebrows drawn tight together above her eyes and her lips set into a deep frown. It was _infuriating_ the way things were happening. There she had been for a whole year trying to force herself to remember even the smallest hints of what happened during the Blight, but it took only a single day for Alistair to come along and threaten the very foundation of what she had been building herself! What she had been carefully constructing for a whole year was swept aside by a hurricane of emotions and suddenly it was warm confessions, and tea shops, and Princes, and kisses, and _sex_! The woman groaned, falling back on her couch and pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes in an attempt to alleviate the inevitable headache that came along with her memories.

            Ileanna let out a frustrated shout, closing her mouth quickly when she remembered her neighbors. She groaned instead, letting her hands fall to her sides before heaving herself up off of the couch. There was plenty to do, and she wouldn’t be any use to anyone if she was laying around fretting over what she couldn’t help. She took to packing instead, moving to her room so that she could sort through all of her things. If this went well she’d only be away for a week or two, at most. She’d let her landlord know when she was done packing, and that would still give her enough time to figure out what she would be making for dinner.

            Dinner…

            A flare of anxious anticipation spread from her core and out to her fingers and toes. Alistair would be coming over for dinner, and here Ileanna had only _just_ remembered their confessions. This would change things. This would… Make things entirely more complicated than they already were. Worst yet, she hadn’t asked him what he would have wanted. Should she wait until he came back and then start preparing? They would be eating late… Maybe they could order a pizza? But – no, they should be eating something better than pizza before they went out on such a challenging trip…

            She could go down the hall and ask what he wanted, of course, but the thought filled Ileanna with such unsettling fear that she froze on the spot.

            Packing.

            She needed to start packing.

            The complicated matter of dinner pushed completely out of her mind, Ileanna made her way through her bedroom in a maelstrom of flying clothes and beat-up duffel bags. Two weeks, three at most, maybe a month if the horde was bad enough to warrant Fergus calling in the Wardens… Ileanna stuffed one bag with a few outfits and her uniform shirts and pants, leaving one set out for the morning, and her necessities for hygiene and living while on the road. The other bag was… more difficult to pack. There were a few pieces of armor that she would need to have before going into battle again, and her weapons that she’d need. These had been packed tightly away in her closet for a reason, though, and as she stared at the back wall where the cases holding them hung, Ileanna couldn’t bring herself to reach out and grab them.

            The main problem was that she still couldn’t make herself believe that she was going back to war with the Darkspawn. No matter how many times she had said it to herself, no matter how many times Fergus had told her that he was reinstating the Wardens, Ileanna could not just… not come to terms with her current fate. It had to be horrible luck, she knew, to have a year’s reprieve before being forced back to battle with those monsters. The Commander assuaged herself with the thought that this battle probably wouldn’t take too long. Nevermind that Fergus was calling for the Wardens again, with Urthemiel down, the next Blight wasn’t bound to happen until Ileanna was long dead. She and the others would swoop down upon the remaining Darkspawn, take them out in a week or less, and be hailed the heroes that they weren’t once more.

            It was simple, and it was what got Ileanna reaching forward to take the case down from the closet wall.

            The Warden laid the case gently on her bed, carefully opening the dust covered lid to peer inside.

\---

_“The treasury!” Eleanor Cousland rushed her daughter through the door to the family safe, locking it tight behind them. It was an archaic Ferelden tradition for many of the nobles to have treasuries, but her father kept it, saying that it had been in Highever Manor longer than the Couslands had, and he wasn’t going to get rid of it just because there was a bank in Amaranthine. Truth be told, the Cousland vault was probably much bigger than the one in the city, and that had kept Eleanor from putting up much of a fight._

_There were shelves along the walls, and the room looked more like a library to Ileanna than it did a treasury. Her mother led her down a long row of shelves that were covered in books of varying ages, but as they went further into the fault, books were replaced by jewelry boxes and cases where she knew her father kept some of his prized hunting rifles and trophies. There were golds here, along with silvers and precious gems, stacked in ornate boxes next to compound crossbows and rifles that had been in the family before her father was born. It was to the very back of the treasury that her mother took her, practically dragging her along to the end of the rows._

_“Here, take these.” the Teyrna stopped her daughter before a simple wooden mannequin. It was not clothed, but there was a gun belt strapped over its chest with two ornate looking pistols. They each had wooden grips inlaid with the Cousland crest in gold, and though Ileanna was sure they had been sitting there for years, they looked polished as though they had just been cleaned yesterday. There was a sheathed sword on the hip of the mannequin as well, a testament to her father’s old fashioned ways. He had never used it, she was certain, but when her mother pulled it out of the sheath a few inches she could see that the blade was still sharp and the metal gleamed just as brightly as the pistols did._

_“What is father_ doing _in his spare time?” Ileanna asked, barely able to keep up as her mother thrust the gun belt into her hands, while strapping the sword on her daughter’s waist. Eleanor carried a shotgun, a pistol, and a knife already, ever the fighting woman. They’d battled their way through Howe’s much better-equipped men to get here, and Ileanna understood why. Her mother was officially arming and preparing her for the fight out of the castle._

_“Hush, now, and take this, too.” Eleanor never answered Ileanna’s question once the sword had been belted around her daughter’s waste and the guns were strapped to her chest. She shoved a few boxes of ammunition into Ileanna’s pajama pants, but that was the only conversation they would have until the end…_

_\---_

            Ileanna stared at the contents of the case. Nestled safely inside were her father’s sword and pistols. Though they had been scratched and battered in her various battles, they retained at least partially some of their shine, and she was glad that the only memory that came with them was of one before the Blight. One that she had retained throughout everything that had happened to her. It had been a great honor to have her father’s choice weapons bestowed upon her. A gesture from her mother to the remaining Cousland, or so they had thought at the time.

            The warden hesitantly reached out to touch the hilt of the sword, it too being engraved with the Cousland crest, though not so ornately as the pistols. She hesitantly rested her hand on the hilt, though the only fear of touching it stemmed from being unsure of what memories it might trigger. Still, Ileana could only think of the statue in the courtyard at the University. Her sword held aloft and Urthemiel’s head clutched tightly in the other hand. She had bested an Archdemon with this blade, if only by chance. She and her companions had ended the Blight, and with this sword she had slain one of the most fearsome creatures in the history of Thedas.

            A shiver ran down her spine.

            Ileanna withdrew her hand from the hilt of her sword and quickly went through the familiar routine of checking and cleaning her pistols. They still seemed in working order, though she surely couldn’t test them in her apartment. She replaced them into the case with the sword and gently closed the lid once more before tucking the whole thing into her other bag. In with the case went the rest of her fighting gear, and when Ileanna’s closet had finally been cleaned of her nightmares she sat on her bed staring at it. There had to be more that she needed to do. Surely there was something she had forgotten, more she needed to pack or something she needed to find…

            When nothing immediately jumped to her mind, Ileanna instead made her way into her kitchen. She did a cursory glance through the cupboards and fridge, finding a pack of chicken breasts, some pasta, and a jar of cheese sauce - all that she had intended to use for a pasta dish one night but never got around to. She could run to the store, get some peppers and some broccoli to put in it… She checked the clock to make sure that it was still early enough to be able to make it to the grocery store and back. But first, she would have to make sure that the meal was alright with Alistair…

            Instinctively, Ileanna pulled out her phone. When she opened her contacts list, though, she could only frown. There were few names listed there, three of her doctors, her brother, and Nathaniel. Dismay and not a little embarrassment washed over her. She’d pushed so many people away in the past year that she had gotten a new phone, a new number, and made sure that there were as few people as possible that could reach her there. Ileanna took in a moment to balance herself before moving back through her living room.

            She was going to have to knock on his door.

            The Hero checked her pockets for her keys, and when she was satisfied that they were there, she pulled open her door and strode into the hallway. Thankfully, the place was clear and she had an easy few steps to Alistair’s door.

            Taking a deep breath for confidence, Ileanna reached out and rapped a quick three times on the door she had seen the other Warden go to the night before, after the fire alarm. There was a moment of silence after her knock, then a loud thump and an oath to Andraste’s sizeable flaming breasts before the door was opened to reveal a grinning Cullen Rutherford. The confidence that Ileanna had bolstered before knocking quickly sapped away. She knew how to deal with a few phantoms from her past, but this particular one eluded her.

            “Oh.” Was all that came out of her mouth. Wincing at her stupid remark, Ileanna shook her head to clear it, thankful that Cullen only grinned at her and leaned in the doorway, waiting. “I was… wondering if Alistair… had a moment.” The Warden finally managed to choke out, embarrassed at her own disability. She must have seemed like a complete moron to the Templar.

            “Oh yeah, give him-“ Cullen glanced over her shoulder, and it was the first time that Ileanna was permitted a glance beyond his hulking frame and into the apartment he shared with her captain. Alistair lay prostrate on the floor, arm extended and palm spread out as though he were reaching for the door when he fell over. Ileanna found she had at least a minor explanation for the curse and the thump, but no further details presented themselves. Cullen’s grin suddenly looked more like a smirk, though, when he turned back to the Hero. “Just give him a minute, he’ll come around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this keeps taking so long. I think I'm going to try and update at least weekly. Thank you everyone for your positive input and continual devotion! I means so much to me :) - Sam <3


	16. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I had to do a time skip because it was getting difficult to write what was happening before. Worry not, though, anything that might have been missed chronologically will most likely be covered in flashbacks, as everything else has been. 
> 
> As always, I am ever grateful for your feedback and your support, and I'm glad that you guys are connecting so well with what I'm writing. Thank you all so much! - Sam <3

Ileanna felt very little relief when she saw the city of Highever sprawling before her. She hadn’t been home since she left for Amaranthine the year before, and with the recent news there was no doubt in her mind that her townspeople would catch onto her arrival quickly. Tales of the coming Darkspawn had spread throughout the Bannorn before her arrival, and with Highever’s close proximity to Vigil’s Keep Ileanna had no doubt in her mind that the news had spread further and faster through the city than they had to Denerim. Being cut off from a reliable news outlet for the past days had not lessened her anxiety to any degree.

            Though she and Alistair had made good time in their travels, they had very little contact with others in their way. They had stopped overnight in a motel that any of their noble peers would have turned their noses up at in disgust, and the seedy exterior bespoke its inside. The television hardly got a single channel, and the owner knew little in the way of the world outside of his questionably legitimate business. He swore he could have recognized the two, but not from where. Ileanna could smell whiskey on him, and she was sure by his leering gaze that he thought they were there because they were up to no good.

            A romp in a shady motel was hardly appropriate given their situation.

            To cut down on time and money they had shared a room, and though Alistair had been adamant about taking the floor, once she had seen the state of the place Ileanna insisted that he share the bed, no matter the repercussions. She had little to no nightmares that night, and was surprised to wake up in the early hours of the morning to Alistair’s muted cries and slight thrashings. Brief guilt assailed her, but neither of them addressed it for the rest of the following day.

            They made it to Highever a few hours after that, though it was still well before noon. Traffic through the Bannorn was light and they were able to speed relatively unhindered through the farmlands in Ileanna’s used jeep. It hardly resembled the ones she and her Wardens had in the Blight – a little older and not as military grade as those had been. She liked her jeep, and it took her home with the speed Fergus required of them.

            There was, however, no one at the gate of the manor.

            Ileanna stared, waiting for one of her brother’s guards to come and let them through, but when nothing happened – and when she checked the gate to see that it was in fact locked – she sighed.

            “Everything all right?” Alistair asked, leaning out of the vehicle. Her expression said enough to him, and he quickly righted himself again in the jeep while Ileanna rifled through her pockets for her phone.

            “Fergus, open the gates, the townspeople are starting to stare.” The Warden warned when her brother picked up the phone. “Where are your guards anyway?”

            “They’re stationed on the city walls, keeping eye for the horde. The gates will be open in a minute.” Fergus’ line went dead after he spoke, which both startled and offended his younger sister.

            Ileanna turned back to her jeep, nevertheless, climbing her way back in and starting it up again. When Alistair sent her another questioning glance, she shrugged. “He’s got men on the walls keeping watch, which I guess makes sense, even if it’s a little archaic…” she frowned, watching as a lone figure made its way down the drive. “Here, take the wheel,” Ileanna gestured for Alistair to take her place in the driver’s seat while she once more climbed out of the car. He didn’t waste time getting out of the vehicle, and she watched from the pavement while he slid across the central console to take her place.

            The Commander leaned against the door, the bottom of her shoulder blades just touching the edge of the open window. Ileanna felt a hand fall against her shoulder, startling her enough to look up. Alistair stared down at her from the driver’s seat, giving her a reassuring smile.

            “Don’t worry,” The prince assured her. “It’ll be okay.”

            Ileana nodded, steeling herself before she turned toward the figure skulking its way down the drive. She raised her hand in greeting, finding herself smiling. Dark hair, broad chest. Tall. That had to be Fergus.

            “Fergie!” She shouted, taking a step forward. “Hurry your butt up, you old ma-“

            The commander’s words cut off in her throat when she saw who _actually_ approached. Nathaniel Howe stopped just before the gates, his fingers wrapping around the bars and his whole weight leaning against them. His awkwardly attractive features twisted up in a cruel smirk. Ileanna thought she caught a glance of Alistair’s fingers balling up into a tight fist, but it lasted only a moment, and she was walking toward the fence before he could say anything to her.

            “What are you doing here, Nathaniel?” She asked, swallowing back her anxiety. Nathaniel was like a shark – if he could smell the fear on her, he would attack. “Fergus told me that he hadn’t heard from Vigil’s Keep in ages. When did you even get here?”

            “I arrived last night with some of my men,” Nathaniel replied, leaning further against the gate. “Told Fergus that you’d want to meet me here on your own.”

            “Well you were wrong.” Ileanna stated, buffing her pride up and swelling her chest with a breath that she wouldn’t let go until she was back in her jeep. “Where’s my brother?”

            “He’s inside, don’t worry,” Nathaniel rolled his eyes. As he looked at her longer, though, his expression started to soften and the smirk was replaced by a gentle smile. The resemblance to his father started to fade, but as soon as Ileanna thought about that, her memory started to rear again and her stomach felt a little bit closer to sick than it had on the drive through the city. Nathaniel Howe’s soft smile and kind eyes did little to lessen the affect. “It’s good to see you again, Ileanna,” he started, reaching out from behind the gate slowly, taking her hand in his. His words made her feel worse, since she had started to understand that he already knew everything. How could he forgive her? Her hand fell limp in his grasp. “I missed you.”

            From behind them, the engine of the jeep revved loudly, a reminder from Alistair that they had an audience, and business to attend to. Ileanna tore her hand back from Nathaniel, and watched him open the gate begrudgingly, muttering something about an overactive mabari the whole time.

            The commander practically crawled back into her Jeep, grateful that she had asked Alistair to take the wheel. Her hands were shaking so badly that she wasn’t sure she could have made it up the drive into the manor.

            “What was that all about?” Alistair asked, and she knew that his polite tone was forced.

            “I didn’t know he was going to be here.” Ileanna could only reply, hoping that her mortified tone was enough for Alistair. She couldn’t force herself to apologize when she hadn’t known that all of her past was going to rear up in her face in a single day. “I thought he was still at Vigil’s Keep, Fergus didn’t call, didn’t say anything about it…” Her stomach rolled uncomfortably as Alistair accelerated through the now-open gate, looking to the side as he past Nathaniel. She imagined he afforded the Howe a more terrible glare than he deserved. It was clear that he had never truly gotten over what she had revealed to him about her relationship with Nate…

            The tense moment was over when they were up the drive. Alistair killed the engine, and in the moment that they had a little peace to themselves, the captain glanced over at the passenger seat to take stock of the state that Ileanna was in.

            She was pale, almost sickly looking, and Alistair immediately felt bad for the accusatory question that he had asked her moments before. He softened his glare at the sight of the state of her. It wasn’t her fault that he had shown up here, and it wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t remember anything from the Blight. He wouldn’t hold it against her. When she had been with Nathaniel, it was because she didn’t remember him, and part of Alistair accepted that, but the other part… Was still a little upset. Upset at the Howe brat for the most part. He had used her and her naïve understanding of the situation. Lorded over her and probably didn’t let her live down that his dad was dead, no matter that he hadn’t told her that she had done it.

            A sudden wave of understanding washed over the prince. Ileanna didn’t look sick because she was seeing Nathaniel again. She looked sick because of the stupid smile that he’d given her. The soft words and understanding twist of his lips. He still thought that she didn’t know what had happened, and he had gone back to holding it over her head to make her feel guilty, even though she wouldn’t know why. Alistair imagined that Nathaniel had every intention to reveal to Ileanna the damage that she had done to him, but if there was any part of his father in his blood then Alistair wouldn’t allow it to happen. He wouldn’t let Nathaniel Howe take her over like that, not while they had such an important mission at hand, and not while…

            Not while he was still in love with her.


	17. Mabari

Ileanna took a moment to herself while Alistair was dragging their bags out of the back of the jeep. He had one of her duffel bags over his shoulder, his own two under his arms, and was about to swing her second one onto his hip when another hand darted out before him and took it from the trunk. Annoyed already, Alistair almost turned around to give Nathaniel Howe a piece of his mind, but Fergus Cousland stared back at him with a kind smile on his face and his sister’s duffel bag under his elbow.

            “Here, let me take that,” he started, gesturing to Ileanna’s second bag slung on the Prince’s shoulder. “This one is heavy enough, I can’t imagine what that one feels like.”

            Before Alistair could make the trade, though, Ileanna darted out from behind him and took her bag for herself, giving Fergus a grin that Alistair could see wasn’t entirely natural. The Commander reached out and took her other bag from Fergus as well, which left the older Cousland with a surprised look on his face. Alistair could see that he had been struggling with the weight of it, and seeing Ileanna fling it over her shoulder like nothing shocked her older brother.

            “What?” The Commander asked, her insubstantial smile turning into a cheeky grin. “You’re going to have to get over _that_ Fergus,” she laughed and the effect was instantaneous. Any tension in Alistair that had started on their drive through the city immediately started to dissipate at the sound of her easy laugh. “I’m stronger than you now, big bro, it’s in my blood.”

            “We have the same blood, idiot,” Fergus laughed in response, going to take her bag back off of her before he saw the look on her face.

            The ease that had come to her with the laughter dropped immediately from Ileanna’s face, and Alistair could have hit his Teyrn upside the head for the offhand remark. Fergus knew little about the war with the Darkspawn – caught up with the Chasind who had been taking care of him and promptly fighting for his land in the civil war that nearly mounted afterwards. He knew little to nothing about the Joining and the trauma that his sister had gone through during it. Ileanna’s expression had darkened tremendously for reasons that Fergus didn’t understand, though, so Alistair would give him that.

            “Fergus,” Ileanna sighed, shaking her head. Her brother’s hands dropped to his sides and his face was ripe with worry for his younger sibling. “It’s just a byproduct of the Wardens,” she explained. “Something that’s changed us forever.” She swallowed, and the forced smile was back. “Now shut up and take me inside, I want to see my mabari again.”

            Grateful for the change in subject, Fergus led his sister and the Prince through the walk up the drive towards the manor. Ileanna was grateful that she saw no sign of Nathaniel on the way up, and found that her forced smile turned into something of a lopsided sort. She had left home under poor circumstances, and now that she had the few months in Denerim under her belt, she was starting to feel better about coming back to Highever.

            The lopsided smile turned into a full out grin when she heard the familiar loud barking of her mabari hound. In an instant she dropped all of her bags – and no small amount of her dignity – to bound up to the front door of the manor just as an inside maid opened it.

            The giant hound practically leaped the few yards between its mistress and the doorstep in one great movement. Ileanna hardly felt it as she was tackled to the ground by the great beast, and was happy to wrestle with it for a time before being finally pinned down and practically licked to death.

            “Lady!” Ileanna shouted when she could finally come up for air from the loving attack. “Oh Lady, I missed you so much!” She scratched at the special spot on the mabari’s flank where she knew Lady was particularly weak for, and the attack calmed immediately. Lady sat back from her mistress and stared up at Ileanna as though she had never been abandoned in the first place.

            “I’m glad you’re back,” Fergus started next to her, and Ileanna nearly jumped out of her boots. She had completely forgotten about her brother and Alistair during the reunion with her dog. “And I was quite worried for Lady – the poor girl was so forlorn when you left.” Like a typical Ferelden, Fergus’ voice was soft and sad at the memory of the heartbreak the hound had gone through. “She wasn’t eating at first, and I thought she wasn’t going to make it for a time, but she got better after a some TLC, though she never fully recovered. She probably thought she lost you forever.” He held his sister’s forgotten bags, and Ileanna wasn’t even bothered to put up a fight over them now that she was with her hound again. She lay on the pavement with Lady sprawled across her, both grinning up at Fergus. “We’re both glad you’re back.”

            “Hello again, Lady,” Alistair’s voice sounded from behind them, and the mabari perked her head up at the sound of it. The Prince knelt down beside the fallen Cousland and her hound, reaching out to pat the mabari’s head. “Do you remember me?”

            In response, Lady let out a happy bark and rolled off of Ileanna and onto Alistair, renewing her attack – though with less vigor – of affections onto the prince.

            “It’s nice to see you again, too, Lady!” Alistair laughed, rubbing at the mabari’s back in an attempt to placate her and lessen the attack.

            Ileanna sat up with a frown on her face while she watched the two, her mind troubled. When Alistair caught sight of it through the mabari’s attack, he scratched at Lady’s flank to calm her down. The familiarity he had with the gesture startled Ileanna and her cheeks whitened in horror.

            “What’s wrong?” Alistair asked, shifting out from under the mabari so that he could reach over to Ileanna and smooth down her hair, wiping at the frustrated tears that she hadn’t known were beginning to fall. “Talk to me, Ileanna, what’s on your mind?”

            “Nothing.” The commander replied, forcing herself to clear her throat and ignore the intimacy of the gesture from the Prince. “That’s just it – nothing.” She stared at Alistair, horrified once again at the year she had lost in the Blight. “I just – How do you know my hound?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter that I actually truly forgot to post again, even after editing it. I apologize that I keep forgetting I have whole chapters sitting around, I just get caught up in a whole bunch of stuff. That being said, I am going to be gone for an extended weekend, but that should hardly be noticeable since I constantly forget to update. I won't have internet though, so I should be able to get some decent writing down, much to your benefit. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the heartfelt comments and the love that you're sending. It really means a lot to me, and I'm grateful that so many of you resonate with what I'm putting down here and enjoy it so much. That's really the joy of writing for me, knowing that you all connect with the characters and enjoy what I'm giving you. I really appreciate it, and know that I would respond to all of your comments individually except for the fact that I'm 100% a nerd and terribly awkward and would most likely make you very uncomfortable with how uncomfortable I feel by talking to someone. Rest assured, that every bit of input, no matter what it might be, is very important to me, and I appreciate every grain of it to its fullest.
> 
> Thank you all so much for continuing to stick with me, especially since I don't update so often anymore. I really do love you guys - Sam<3


	18. Nathaniel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will openly admit to not having edited this the way that I should have, which means I barely proof-read it at all and I apologize for that deeply. I'm in a bad place right now. My boyfriend (who lives across the US from me) came to visit for a week and now he's gone and I feel really shitty, so I'm stuck in a bit of a rut. Honestly, I don't like this chapter at all, but I guess we all have to deal with it, I felt about as great writing it as you'll probably feel reading it.
> 
> That being said, thanks so much guys. I wouldn't be able to keep going without your support. - Sam <3

_The nightmares from the Spawn were getting worse. Ileanna was having a hard time just imagining falling asleep, but actually getting there seemed to be a thing of the past. Alistair warned her that this would happen, but she hadn’t known it would be so bad. Even he seemed to be less affected than she was, and he had been a Warden for longer. Maybe it was because she had Joined during the Blight, and not just before it, like some of the past Wardens had. Whatever the case, she couldn’t let her other forces go through this, not when they were needed most. Not when some of them could die just through the ceremony. Ileanna needed as many men and women that she could find, and if she lost anyone to the Joining, to the nightmares and the terrors that followed she would never be able to forgive herself. So she lost some sleep now and then, who cared? As long as she had plenty of people fighting alongside her, that was all that mattered._

_The commander told herself all of this while she sat awake at the fire for the third night in a row._

_Ileanna had steadily been tilting to the side for the past half an hour, her body ready to give in and sleep no matter what protests she made about it. She was about to fall to her side when a large, warm body situated itself under her and propped her up. Ileanna had little time to react before her hound’s face was in her own, a strange aura of concern coming from the mabari in the sound of her whines._

_“Shh, Lady,” Ileanna whispered, lazily petting the pup. “I am alright.”_

_“Are you sure about that?”_

_The Warden-Commander stiffened when she heard the voice of her captain from behind her. She turned to give him a remark, but Alistair was already situating himself on the other side of the mabari. He reached out to pet her gently, and Lady rumbled happily._

_“You need to sleep, Ileanna,” Alistair whispered his reprimand, and though it sound harsh though there was only concern in his voice. He shifted to allow Lady to move onto his lap and stare at her mistress as though the two of them were performing some kind of intervention. “You don’t show it to the others because you’re worried about morale, but if Lady weren’t here a moment ago you would have fallen into the fire. Maker.” Lady huffed indignantly in agreement and Alistair sighed. “Maker, Ileanna, are the nightmares that bad?”_

_Ileanna almost scoffed, but managed to filter herself in time for the benefit of her captain. “Alistair I haven’t slept in three nights.” Part of that was by choice, though she would never admit that to the other Warden. “The others wonder why they never had a Joining proper, but I could never bear to subject them to – to this!” She gestured all about herself, and she didn’t need a mirror to know that her appearance proved her point. If Ileanna looked half as bad as she felt, Alistair would understand. “Before… Before Ostagar,” the Commander continued, glancing up at Alistair to make sure she wasn’t treading dangerous waters. When she saw no inclination on his expression, she continued. “Before Ostagar, Duncan told me that my nightmares might be worse than yours, or even his.” When she saw Alistair ready to interrupt, she shook his head. “I know that he was starting to hear the Calling,” she admit. “He told me as much, before you did. But he also said that because I was Joined during the Blight my nightmares might be worse. I might be affected in some way by the Archdemon’s presence.”_

_Alistair frowned, but said nothing. The silence between them stretched, Lady lounging on the Captain’s lap and happily being pet by him. Ileanna watched the two with fondness, pleased that at least her hound could be happy in these trying times. Lady rubbed her head against Alistair’s stomach, and before either of the Wardens could stop the mabari, she was crawling on top of the man, practically assaulting him with her affections._

_“Oh Maker-“ Alistair grunted, being thrown down onto the ground by the weight of the hound. “Ileanna – Ileanna how do I get her off of me?”_

_“Here-“ Ileanna had to keep her laughing quiet for the benefit of the rest of the sleeping camp, but she could still hardly hold in her mirth when she leaned across to scratch at Lady’s flank. It was the hound’s weak spot, and if lovingly pet, she would stand down. “It’s right there on her left flank.”_

_Alistair, recovering from the attack, straightened up onto his elbows when Lady was finally off of him. He reached out, scratching where Ileanna had indicated. Lady lolled over onto her side, her tongue hanging out of her mouth while she panted happily._

_\---_

“Sis?” Fergus’ voice broke through the familiar barrier of the recovery of her memories. It took Ileanna a moment longer to focus herself, but when she recalled that she was sitting on the ground in front of Highever Manor, she straightened, staring over at Alistair with a frown on her face.

            “She’s fine, Fergus,” The Prince muttered, his hand still extended toward the commander as it had been before the recall hit her. “Are you?” He asked in a quieter voice, worry etched into his features.

            Ileanna’s heart bled for Alistair. Here he was, trying to protect her so carefully, to make sure she was okay and was well, but she felt like she hardly knew him. Whatever their past, she couldn’t fathom what was going through his head. Couldn’t imagine how painful it must be for him to speak so softly for her when she hadn’t done the same for him.

            Her heart bled for him, which was why she forced herself to simply smile and nod.

            “I’ll be fine, Alistair,” the commander replied, getting back to her feet and smiling in thanks to her brother, who still had her bags. “I’m alright, Fergus, just a little side effect of the Blight.”

            “You still can’t remember, can you?” Fergus asked softly while they continued into the manor. The maid that had been inside to release Lady held open the door for the three of them, her jaw practically dropping to the floor when she saw that it was Prince Alistair walking through the door behind the two Couslands. Fergus placed his sister’s bags on the floor and reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. “Have you been talking to someon-“

            “I’m fine, Fergus.” Ileanna emphasized. She watched in horror for a moment as the maid tried to lift her bags to take them up to her room before gently putting her hand on the woman’s arm. “Don’t worry about it,” she smiled shortly at the woman. “Even Fergus can’t carry these for long.” Ileanna reached down to swing her bags over her shoulders before turning to face her brother again. “I’ll take these up to my room. Then I want you, Alistair, and Nathaniel to meet me down in the dining room with any man or woman you think might survive the Joining.” A little piece of her was proud of the surprise etched onto her brother’s face. “Got it?”

            “Why Nathaniel?” Fergus’ face went from shock to disdain in a quick second. “Shouldn’t we just send him away?”

            “No, he and his remaining forces will be necessary, if the attack is as bad as you claim it is.” Ileanna frowned. “As much as I don’t like it, we’re going to need whatever Nathaniel has to offer. I think I might just put him through the Joining myself.”

            Alistair scoffed, but at the look that Ileanna gave him he didn’t dare speak another word. Instead he turned to Fergus who gestured him down the hall with a muttered ‘I’ll show you to your room’. Ileanna went in the opposite direction, toward her old bedroom on the second story of the manor. She hadn’t been home since just after the Blight, but there were still a number of serving men and women that bowed their heads with muttered ‘my ladies’ and ‘Miss Cousland’s that Ileanna could have gone without. She smiled at them, though, and that seemed to calm all the apprehension and nervousness that was in the air as she approached her room.

            A frown etched across Ileanna’s features. Why was the air so tense? What had happened to her room while she was away? Why was the door left slightly ajar? Ileanna’s frown only deepened when she approached the partially opened door.

            The commander’s questions were all answered when she set her bags down and gave the wood above the handle a push.

            Nathaniel Howe stood beside her dresser, a framed photo in his hand. Ileanna almost scoffed – this was worse than a bad movie. Nathaniel stared at whatever picture he had in his hand, a frown on his face that would have looked sentimental if Ileanna didn’t know the things that she did. Ileanna was glad that the house was maintained well and that her door didn’t creak when she opened it. If she was going to watch Nathaniel be a creep in her bedroom, then she wanted to do it silently.

            As it was, the Howe didn’t hear her pad quietly into her bedroom. He wouldn’t have heard her if she hadn’t crossed her arms over her chest and scoffed directly at him.

            “What are you in my room for, Nate?” Ileanna asked, raising an eyebrow at him. She’d told Alistair that they parted on good terms, and while that remained true, Ileanna could only harbor distrust for the Howe, now that she knew what she did. Nathaniel most certainly knew that Ileanna had been the one to kill Rendon Howe, and he held that above her, undoubtedly thinking to use it for some sort of leverage on the Hero of Ferelden.

            “Just thinking about old times.” Nathaniel replied, a hint of a smile on his face. She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not.

            “So you had to do that in _my_ room?” The warden shook her head. “I don’t think so, Nate.”

            “You’re right.” Nathaniel’s grimace almost had Ileanna feeling bad enough to let up on him. Almost. “I wanted to talk to you,” he admit. “Apologize. For what happened when you left.” He gestured between them, and Ileanna realized that he was just in front of her. She wondered when he’d taken the step forward, but she couldn’t recall. “What happened between us, I mean.”

            “Look, Nate,” Ileanna sighed, shaking her head and taking a step back that he only slightly followed. “It was great while it lasted, but it’s not really a thing anymore, y’know?”

            Nathaniel looked across at Ileanna, his hands raised and poised to take her arms just above the elbows. For a moment, she was horrified to think that he was about to kiss her, but Nathaniel’s arms dropped to his sides and a sigh fell from his lips. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re with the pretty boy Prince now, aren’t you?”

            Ileanna took a deep breath and shook her head. “I don’t know what the situation with Alistair and I is,” she admit, suddenly very grateful with herself for saying that. It made her feel better, slightly. She didn’t know, and it was okay to admit that she still felt a little strange about what was happening. Good, but strange. “But… when we ran into each other a few days ago, I started to remember some things.” She cleared her throat, embarrassed now. “We were together during the Blight, sort of, and we both decided that we could… we could try it again.” Ileanna gave a nervous laugh. “So I’m sorry, Nate. Whatever we had, and whatever it could have been just… has to stop.”

            “Does the Prince know?” Nathaniel asked, and Ileanna was surprised to not hear a note of his usual disdain in his voice.

            “I didn’t want there to be any awkwardness,” The commander replied. “So I told him… enough. He knows what he needs to, and he shouldn’t hold it against you. I promise that if he behaves horribly at all, then I’ll remind him who is in command.”

            Nathaniel gave her a smile, and – surprisingly for Ileanna – a very chaste kiss on the cheek. “Hands off, then.” The Howe smiled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans for emphasis. “Got it, Commander.”

            “That’s another thing,” Ileanna grimaced, rubbing the back of her neck. “When I’m done putting my things away up here, be in the dining room with any of your men or women you might think will survive the Joining.” Ileanna took in a deep breath. “And I’ll need to know what you do about the horde amassing, and how they behaved. Got it?”

            “Yes ma’am.” Nathaniel nodded, giving her a short salute that was more of his normal mocking nature before he left her room.

            Ileanna pulled her bags all the way into her bedroom, giving the place a cursory glance in case it had been too badly messed with since she had left the year before. Most of it was all in the same place, give or take a few things that might have been moved there for convenience. She had hardly used it, of course, so she couldn’t complain. Her jewelry box had been moved to be dusted, and the sheets on her bed had been changed, but Ileanna was altogether pleased with being in her room again. Despite how her year in the apartment had been good for her, it was nice to be back in familiar Highever manor.

            There was no sense in unpacking, though, not when she knew that they would be on the move soon. Still, the warden pulled out her weapon case from her duffel bag and set it down on her bed, opening it just to make sure that everything was still in order there. She would check the guns in the shooting range later and gather some ammunition, along with something perhaps more effective than two pistols. Not that she didn’t love her guns, but they were better used as a last resort than as a main firearm. Her sword lay unbent and unbroken in its padding, the silverite blade gleaming slightly in the lamplight. She’d have t try her hand with it, again, too. There was no telling what she had lost among her memories – Ileanna just hoped that she was just as good with a blade as she used to be.

            The Commander glanced around her room one last time to check things over, and just as she was about to leave, she caught sight of the face-down picture frame that Nathaniel had been looking at. She had lived with an assortment of pictures around her for the past year of her life, and she’d hoped that this one would be one of the few that she actually _could_ remember. Not that she’d left many behind when she left Highever, but there was always a chance…

            But no, this frame was filled with an assortment of pictures that ranged across a few of her younger years. There was photobooth set of her and one of her other young friends, a small wallet-sized picture of her mother, and in the back, the largest photo was of she, Fergus, and Nathaniel. She’d gained an inch or two of height on the boys that year, and when the Arl and the Teryn took them to Highever’s annual fair she was ganglier and more awkward than usual. While Fergus and Nathaniel both were a few years her senior, Ileanna trumped over them, and when the photograph was taken she had her lengthy arms draped over the shoulders of both her brother and friend. It had been a good day, and though her cheeks and nose were sunburned and stinging they had all laughed and sang loudly to the radio the whole car ride home.

            Ileanna realized she had caught Nathaniel in a rather sentimental state when she found him sneaking about her room. Maybe she would have to consider his feelings more, after all.


	19. Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To recap: Ileanna and Alistair have gone to Highever at Eamon and Fergus' requests in order to start the response to the Darkspawn threat and reinstate the Warden's authority. There was a rather awkward, but heartfelt, encounter with Nathaniel Howe, and now our heroes address the disgruntled nobility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoboy folks, it has certainly been a very long time. I apologize tenfold for the wait, I just... I fell out o the fandom for a while there, but it looks like I'm getting a muse again? I don't know, we'll find out. In any case, take this woefully short chapter as an intended apology.

The way to the dining room after she had sorted herself in her room was less tense for Ileanna. There were a few serving men and maids that she met along the way – ones that she had known before and after the Blight. The few she had helped save and a few she had helped Fergus hire. She spoke amiably with them on her way, but when she was finally in front of the door to the dining room, the warden commander’s stomach tightened and twisted into knots.

            Fergus, Alistair, and Nathaniel, all in the same room. Three parts of her life all jumbled up together and she honestly had no idea what she was getting herself into. She stood before the door, her hand outstretched, and all the confidence in the world couldn’t get her moving.

            Until she heard the arguing on the other side.

            When Ileanna finally pushed the door open, she was surprised to see Alistair, Nathaniel, and Fergus standing side by side with crossed arms and cross expressions, staring directly at a television screen that Ileanna didn’t remember being in the dining room. She recognized a conference of the Ferelden nobility and politicians, and her heart sank.

            “The Wardens are too much of a risk.” A woman was saying – a Bann, Ileanna guessed. “They are reckless and poorly controlled. Look what happened to Denerim during the Blight! That could have been avoided without those Grey Wardens messing up the place!”

            “I’m going to have to disagree, my Lady,” Ileanna was relieved to hear Eamon speaking. He was a good voice of reason among some of Ferelden’s more rambunctious nobility She had almost forgotten the older man was there. He stood well behind the three younger gentlemen, his posture less aggressive than the other three. “The Wardens could not have helped Denerim more than they had, and do you think the national army would have stopped the Darkspawn from destroying the city any better than the Wardens did? Who would have stopped the Blight, if not for the very Hero of Ferelden you were lauding earlier.”

            “No one has seen the Hero since the end of the Blight!” Another man argued. An Arl that Ileanna recognized but could no longer name. “Where is the Commander of the Grey, hm?” The man turned on Fergus, glaring through the camera at her brother. “Teyrn Cousland, no one has seen hide nor hair of your sister for a year, and suddenly there’s a news report of her _canoodling_ with our Prince? What have you to say of this? Where is she?”

            “I am right here!” Ileanna called, stepping forward and taking her place in front of her gathered group, fed up with their unhelpful arguing. “And yes, three days ago I _was_ in Denerim with Prince Alistiar. I’ve _been_ in Denerim, as a matter of fact, for the past year. You’ll have to forgive me, Arl, for laying low after the Blight. Killing and _Archdemon_ will do that to a person.” Her words were like ice, and she was grateful for it, considering she couldn’t remember the last time that she stood and spoke in front of Ferelden’s nobility. “I contacted the Prince when I thought it would be a good time to come out of hiding, and the next thing I know, Amaranthine is being overrun by Darkspawn. Now – good Lords and Ladies of Ferelden, who do we know that has dealt best with the Darkspawn in the past, hm?”

            There was a satisfying silence on the other end before the gathering of men and woman began to grumble in agreement of the obvious truth.

            “Thank you,” Ileanna continued, clasping her hands behind her back. “Now, my brother – Teyrn Cousland – put in for a gathering of the Wardens because he knew the severity of the situation in Amaranthine. I believe it’s imperative that we come to a positive decision on the matter. There are only two Wardens in Ferelden who have gone through the Joining – the Prince and I. My other forces from during the Blight are spread across Thedas and new Wardens are imperative to stopping this threat before it begins. The region of Amaranthine is under attack and we don’t have long. There are no more vast armies of Ferelden after the Blight. There are no militia men that we can call on – they’re all busy rebuilding their homes and their ways of life. I have men behind me that are willing to join the Wardens, and I have men that are just waiting to be conscripted, but I _need the authority to do so._ ” The Warden paused, giving a moment for her words to sink in and taking one to breathe. “Now, as the Hero who saved Ferelden before, grant me the chance to do it again.”

            There was an uncomfortable silence that followed her words in which she could see each noble face of Ferelden on the screen twist into disgruntled understanding. No one was willing to admit that the Darkspawn were still a threat after the Blight had just so recently been culled, but they saw the clear logic that Ileanna was presenting. If there was a threat – she and the other Wardens were the only ones that were capable of stopping it. No matter how much they wanted to deny it, each of the gathered nobles knew that she spoke the truth.

            “Very well, Commander,” sighed a Bann whose name she had forgotten long before the Blight. “I second Teyrn Cousland’s movement to reinstate the Wardens.”

            While deliberation continued, behind Ileanna she could hear the grumblings of her three companions.

            “You’re the prince,” Nathaniel whispered, as disgruntled as ever. “Can’t you do anything about this?”

            There was a snort, and the prince replied. “The most I can do is support her,” Alistair scoffed. “Which clearly I’ve already done. Whether or not they agree with me is a completely different matter. Besides, I was a Warden during the Blight – most of them probably think I’m biased.”

            “You don’t think you are?” Nathaniel’s voice sounded behidner the Warden-Commander after another moment, probably just looking to push Alistair’s buttons.

            “I _think_ there are Darkspawn ravaging part of my country,” Alistair grumbled, his buttons clearly pushed. “And that prince or no, I am a Warden and I swore my life to the protection of Thedas against these very same threats.”

            To her right, Fergus scoffed but said nothing of the exchange.

            “Very well, it’s decided then.” When the bantering nobles finally silenced themselves on the screen, Arl Eamon strode forward to stand beside Ileanna. She was surprised – albeit a little confused – when he placed a friendly hand on her shoulder in support.

            “As the majority has decided well in favor of Teyrn Cousland, with the backing of the Prince of Ferelden, the Wardens of Ferelden have been reinstated, with their former leader Ileanna Cousland returning to her seat of command.” Eamon turned his pleasant smile and all of its unsettling force to all of the nobles on conference call. “I thank you all for your assistance and support today, but I believe this is the last we shall annoy of each other until the upcoming Landsmeet. Good day to all of you.”

            There was a moment of silence when the conference dropped and the screen bearing the images of the nobles blacked out. Nathaniel cleared his throat, Alistair shuffled uncomfortably and Fergus for some reason looked rather more disgruntled than when Ileanna had joined them.

            “That went… well.” The newly reinstated Warden-Commander commented, looking around her group rather hopefully. Eamon was the only one bearing a smile for a moment, but soon enough Alistair and Nathaniel begrudgingly gave her the same response albeit a little tensely. Ileanna let out a long sigh and turned to address Eamon directly.

            “Arl Eamon,” she started, as diplomatically as possible, clasping her hands behind her back. “Would it hurt you to wait a few moments longer before starting the conference call next time?” The commander asked, raising her eyebrow in question. “I would have preferred to be there so I could have ended that rabble as soon as possible. I can’t imagine how it must have looked to have the subject of the conference not actually present.”

            Though he appeared to be chastised, Eamon’s calming smile didn’t work its usual wonders on the young noblewoman. He reached out his hand once more, again patting Ileanna’s shoulder in comfort. “Worry not, my dear,” he started. “The meeting was concluded successfully, and that’s all we can ever hope for.”

            “It would have been much more successful if Ileanna had been here to begin with.” Nathaniel surprised Ileanna by coming to her defense. She didn’t think he would do something so bold since their discussion, but she was grateful for it anyway. “And it would have ended sooner, too.”

            “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Nathaniel Howe.” Eamon replied, his brow pulling together in disdain. “In fact, I don’t remember your presence being requested her at all.”

            “ _I_ requested his presence, and I appreciate his input.” Ileanna added quickly, doing her best to simmer the situation before anything got out of hand. No doubt, there was no one that was happy with the situation that Nathaniel had been put in after the Blight and the almost-civil war. “Now, Arl Eamon, it’s been quite a long few days. I’d like some time to discuss private matters between my brother, Alistair, Nathaniel, and I. Is that acceptable?”

            Eamon stared for a moment, his brow still drawn, but after that moment had passed his usual diplomatic smile was back in place. “Of course, my lady,” he stated, bowing slightly. “Should you need me, I’ll be in the study.”


	20. Greagoir and Irving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter while I get back into the swing of things.

“Should you really have spoken to Eamon like that?” Alistair asked once the man in question had left. A frown pulled at the Prince’s lips, his head tilted to the side. “I mean, he was only trying to help…”

            “He undermined my authority,” Ileanna started, glancing once at the door that had just closed moments before. She kept her voice low just in case. “And he was rather short with the nobility. I would _like_ to keep them on my good side. I… I can’t quite remember what happened during the last Landsmeet,” she added, frowning. “But I can gather that it wasn’t good. In any case, I don’t want Eamon’s influence interfering with how the Wardens make it through this. I can’t be babied anymore. I just _know_ he influenced us during the Blight, and I don’t want it to happen again.”

            Fergus reached out to place his hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Ileanna if you’re under too much stress then this can wait until later. We’ll discuss our plans over dinner and-“

            “No.” The Commander replied, shaking her head. “It’s got to get done, we need to get to Amaranthine as soon as possible.” She placed a hand on top of her brother’s, gave it a gentle squeeze of reassurance, then turned to the Prince. “Alistair, I need you to get ahold of the Circle. Get… Contact… Conact- Ugh…”

            Ileanna would have fallen were it not for the dining table. She caught herself on the edge of the table and eased down into one of the soft chairs that stood beside it. Her head throbbed for a moment before the images started flooding her mind.

\---

_“Of course he’d say that, he might be a blood mage!” Cullen Rutherford’s angered voice shouted through the hall. As soon as she heard the accusation, Ileanna left the child she was taking care of to jog off toward the source of the commotion._

_Cullen, the poor man, stood between Greagoir and Irving, grimacing at the former and gesturing violently toward the latter. His gun was drawn, and Ileanna had no doubts that he would fire if Greagoir hadn’t reached out to disarm him._

_“I am the Knight-Commander here, Rutherford,” Greagoir started, calm as ever once he had Cullen’s weapon in his hand. “You would do well to remember that!”_

_“Please,” Ileanna held her hands up, entering the confrontation as innocently as possible. She had just cleansed this place of its demons, and she would have liked it to stay that way. If Cullen got too out of hand she would have to do something, and she didn’t want that. “Knight-Commander?” She asked, referring to the older man. “We’ve just cleansed this place. My comrades and I can assure you that there are no other abominations among the surviving mages. Wynne saw to them all.”_

_“I agree.” The Knight-Commander replied, easing the Warden’s mind. “You’ve done an admirable job and have been a great help, Warden-Commander Cousland. I could never have asked you for your assistance with this, but I trust that you’ve done what you needed. As such,” he continued, holding his hand out to silence Cullen, who looked as though he was ready to interrupt. “I trust Irving’s judgement on the state of the Circle.”_

_“The Wardens have been of great aid to the Circle,” Irving dropped his head in thanks, and Ileanna would have been surprised if he didn’t utter a prayer while he was at it. “The circle is cleansed.”_

_“Then my decision is final.” Greagoir agreed. “And the Wardens have friends in both Templars and Mages.”_

_“This is ridiculous!” Cullen shouted, throwing his hands into the air in frustration. “Why would we trust them? They’re not Templars! There are mages among them!”_

_“I_ said _my decision was final, Rutherford.” Greagoir glared at the younger Templar. “I trust Irving’s judgement and the judgement of the Wardens. You are dismissed. I will speak to you about temporary leave when I am finished with my business here.”_

_Cullen looked as though he were about to object another time, but he sent one last glare to the gathered company before stalking off in the direction of a few other Templars. Ileanna watched him go, a frown on her face. Surely, Greagoir could have handled that better…_

_But there were other matters to attend to._

_“Knight-Commander,” Ileanna started, shifting nervously. She was new to her position, and the weight of command looked like it fit the older Templar much better than it fit her. Though they were ranked much the same, she felt inferior to him in every way. “There’s still the matter of the Darkspawn.” When Greagoir didn’t respond she took that as a good sign, and plowed on. “I came here bearing the right of Conscription. My intention was to seek the help of the mages in the upcoming Blight, but now I’m no longer sure…” She glanced around her at the ruins of the tower. There were few mages that hadn’t been corrupted in the terrible ordeal, but there were some that she had saved who were merely physically wounded…_

_“Unfortunately,” Greagoir started, and Ileanna felt her heart drop into her stomach. “I cannot offer the full assistance of the Templar Order. My duty remains here in the wake of the destruction of the Circle. However-“_

_“The mages are yours to command when you call on them, Warden-Commander,” Irving interrupted, smiling at Ileanna. “This is as much as I can offer, given what you have done for us. There may not be many to hear your call, but they will be there when you do.”_

\---

Too much in too little time. Ileanna steadied herself out on the table, holding onto the edge so that she wouldn’t fall out of the chair she sat herself on. She closed her eyes tight, wishing that this wouldn’t keep happening with so many mundane memories. If there was better information, then maybe it would be useful for once, but this?

            “Alistair, contact Greagoir and Irving.” She finally finished, batting off the concern of the three gathered men. “Let them know we need assistance in preparing for the Joining. I’m going to do this right this time. I can’t cut corners and allow towns to be destroyed like Denerim was.” Maybe if there were more actual Wardens to sense the Spawn then she wouldn’t lose whole cities this time. “Fergus, I need you to gather any of your forces that you might think suitable for the Joining. Strong men and women, will of steel, all that.” Her brother nodded his assent. “Nathaniel, I need to know if you’re prepared to be a Grey Warden.”

            The shock on the Howe’s face was a clear enough tell that he hadn’t expected to be addressed as such. Nate sputtered for a moment before he straightened and nodded.

            “I would think so,” he stated, squaring his shoulders. “What do you need me to do?”

            Ileanna let out a sigh. “I don’t suppose you have any Darkspawn blood, do you?”


	21. Help Me

“Nate,” When the others had gone from the dining room, Ileanna reached out to stop Nathaniel from following them. She swallowed hard, forcing down the flare of anxiety that came with her determination. She had to tell Nathaniel that she knew what had happened. Before he was Joined, before any of the mess that she was already in with him got to be any worse, she had to let him know. Still, the thought of admitting to killing the former Arl brought bile to her throat. She could still hardly believe it herself, how could she possibly tell anyone?

            But then she remembered that Nathaniel already knew. She remembered that he had known all along and that the bile in her throat wasn’t because she was disgusted with herself. Ileanna had to remind herself that she was disgusted with _him_. With Nate and with Rendon and all of the other Howes that sacked her family home and killed everyone that she had loved. She steeled herself, and released Nathaniel’s shoulder when he turned to face her with a question on his lips.

            “What’s wrong?” Her old friend asked, tilting his head to the side. There was no hint of malice in his voice, and for a moment Ileanna was shocked that he could remain so calm in the face of his father’s killer. Perhaps he had enough shame to remember that his father killed her entire household. “Ileanna?”

            But the sourness of the situation was rising in her throat again, and Ileanna had to swallow it down one more time before she opened her mouth. If she did that, then there was no telling what kind of vomit would come out. Words or last night’s dinner, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself.

            “I killed your father.” As though that was a tactful admission to her crime. The Hero of Ferelden, stopper of Blights and murderer of Arls. The sick feeling came back as quick as it had gone, and Ileanna felt her throat start to clog up with the fear that had strangled her since Alistair had told her the truth those few nights ago. She couldn’t remember, but she could still hear the bloody scream that she had recounted two nights prior. It was guttural, and it was brutal, and she did not doubt for a second that Rendon Howe had paid severely for his crimes, but still… she wasn’t sure if she regretted it.

            Nathaniel stared at her, and for a moment she thought he would have unleashed the fury that she had known in him before they’d split apart, but he only continued to stare. Blue eyes cooled out, and the mischief that had seemed to permanently reside there bid its final farewell. His shoulders slumped, and his lips turned up in a sad smile.

            “I know.” He stated simply, and that nearly drove away all the regret and anxiety that had built up in Ileanna and replaced it with rage.

            “You knew!?” Of course he knew. She already knew that he knew, but that didn’t make it any better to hear it from the man himself. The flare of anger she had felt was stoked and the fire burned throughout her body with an embarrassing heat. She felt her cheeks warm and redden, and Ileanna had to remind herself to remain calm. “Of course you knew.” She stated. “But when were you planning on telling me?”

            That seemed to have caught him in his own trap. Nathaniel’s face darkened, and Ileanna was suddenly aware that he was one of the select people that had a few inches of height above her. He stood over her, glaring down at the warden.

            “When were _you_ planning on telling me, hm, _Commander_?” He sneered, the malice back in his voice, as if Ileanna’s flames had fanned to him and stoked his own rage. “When were you going to tell me that you suddenly remembered murdering my father? When were you going to tell me that you dropped everything you believed in to get petty _revenge_?”

            “That’s not fair.” Ileanna hissed, her eyes narrowing in return. “You know that’s not fair, Nate. I _don’t_ remember, I just know!”

            “How do you know but not remember?” Nathaniel’s voice raised, and though he wasn’t shouting yet, Ileanna had no doubt that that would be how their discussion would end.  He’d backed her into the wall, glaring down at her still. And yet, she still wasn’t sure if she regretted telling him of her revelation. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair! Murdering my father for revenge, taking my lands, and then trying to make up for it by sleeping with me and returning a little portion of what I once owned! _That’s_ not fair, Ileanna!” He’d rounded on her now, and his voice had raised to a shout, but fire that had been in Ileanna abruptly turned to ice.

            “I wonder,” The warden whispered, eyes like daggers and voice cold as steel. “I wonder what that could _possibly_ feel like, Nathaniel Howe.” The older man knew he’d overstepped his boundaries when Ileanna placed her palm on his chest and shoved him away from her. Nathaniel stumbled back, surprised by her strength. “I am officially declaring my right of conscription. Prepared your men for the Joining, _Nate_. Once the tower mages get here, you’ll all be put through trial.”

\---

“Ileanna?”

            The Warden nearly jumped off of her bed when she heard Alistair knock at her door. She took a moment to compose herself before calling to let him in, offering a smile to the prince when he shut the door and moved over to the edge of her bed.

            “Well I guess this is how nobility lives.” He nodded, looking around at the room. Ileanna had emptied a few of her bags to sort out what she would need for the coming days. Her armor lay across the end of her bed, her sword and gun cases lay open on her floor, waiting to be more closely examined. Her regular clothes were in a pile near her closet, and her bag of toiletries out in the open on top of her dresser. Alistair gave a short laugh when Ileanna attempted to grin at him. “How enchanting.”

            “Get used to it, your _highness_.” Ileanna remarked, rolling her eyes. “Normally it would be much better, but I don’t really see the point of keeping things neat when we’re bound to be on the road again in a few days.” She edged closer toward her pillows, making a space for Alistair to sit in front of her. “The real kicker is that I’ve let you in here and you’ve closed the door while we’re _unchaperoned._ ” She waggled her eyebrows at him in an attempt to keep the mood light, but the warden couldn’t deny that there was little humor in her voice.

            “Oh you’re not fourteen anymore,” Alistair replied, perching himself at the edge of Ileanna’s bed she had cleared away for him. “Besides, we’ve already…” His sentence trailed off, and the prince cleared his throat. They were taking this slow, he had to remind himself. She hardly remembered their previous encounters. “So,” he continued, rushing to get past his awkwardness. “What was that about with Nathaniel in the dining room?”

            Ileanna tried to pretend that she couldn’t hear the jealousy in his voice. She also pretended that she was alright with him eavesdropping on their conversation. Then she remembered that she and Nathaniel had _certainly_ been yelling, and that they had probably alerted the whole manor staff as well as Fergus and Alistair in the process.

            “I told him that I knew what happened to his father.” The admission seemed to have come out of her mouth of its own desire, and Ileanna wished she hadn’t said almost immediately after it was in the air between them. The subtle hint of jealousy that had been in Alistair’s eyes just moments before was washed away completely by sympathy that the commander wasn’t sure she wanted. The prince shuffled his way up the bed so sit beside Ileanna, and when his arm went around her shoulder she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it.

            The dam broke.

            Tears that Ileanna had thought were well and dried out over the past year started to fall. She leaned her head into the crook of Alistair’s arm and she was gone. Perhaps it was the situation with Nathaniel that had triggered them, but Ileanna was sure that this was a long time coming. Her year of solitude had been a giant wave of pent up frustrations crashing against the dam of her resolve, and the past few days had been an earthquake to crack at the foundations. The return of Darkspawn into her life, the stress of having to deal with the nobility that claimed to praise her as Hero but as soon as she was needed again wanting nothing to do with her. Alistair’s devotion despite the fact that she could hardly remember whatever relationship that they had…

            “Why are you doing this?” Ileanna asked through her sobs, her eyes closed tight. It would be better if she could just hear Alistair’s response. She didn’t want to see the affection on his face. She didn’t know if she could return it. “Why are you helping me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me go, y'all. I'm so pleased that some of you have continued to stick with me through my rather lacking performance in the past weeks. Thank you all for your input, and I appreciate that you've continued to read despite the decline in period and quality. Much love and appreciation - Sam <3


	22. Wardens, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the romance you've all been waiting for. With a brief interruption by a Howe.

_“Because I love you.” It was simple enough, but the revelation had shocked Warden-Commander Cousland to her core. They had flirted throughout the past weeks, and shared more than one kiss, but Ileanna never expected this. She had never expected flowers or a candle lit confession. She held the rose that he had given her between her thumb and index finger, careful with the rarity more than she was with her weapons. He’d stripped it of thorns for her, kept it carefully in water and pruned dead leaves from its stem. She had no idea how he did it, but the thing looked just as fresh as when he had picked it._

_And_ love _? Ileanna’s heart fluttered despite herself. Their dalliance had been the only thing keeping her able to smile throughout the Blight, and though she would never have admitted it to herself, she returned the feelings. There he was, the rightful prince despite his bastard blood, and she the daughter of a slain nobleman, in the midst of a Blight and a dawning civil war. But still, they found room for this. For love._

_“I – “ Ileanna’s cheeks flushed deeper and she was pleased that there was little enough light. She’d have to ask him where he found that candle, later on. “I love you too, Alistair.”_

_“Then we’ll take down this Blight together.” He stated. Alistair had never sounded so confident in their cause before, and his devotion did nothing but flare the heat that had been spreading through her into a dull flame. He reached out to her, grasping her arms and pulling her closer to him. She melted against his chest, holding the rose between them with one hand and reaching her other one around his waist. “And we’ll live happily ever after,” he continued, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I promise we’ll make it out alive.”_

_\---_

            Ileanna wasn’t sure when the tears had stopped, and she hadn’t been listening to anything that Alistair was saying. Her hands had locked where they were in her memories, one gripping empty space between them where a flower had been, the other wrapped around his waist and clinging to his shirt. She was grateful that she hadn’t been moved from this position, at least, as she wasn’t able to see Alistair’s face, and he wasn’t able to see how mortified hers was. She’d been caught in a terrible feeling of whiplash by the memory, and in one of the most vulnerable positions she’d ever been in her entire life. It wasn’t just Darkspawn or a steamy night in her tent, this time.

            She’d remembered their _love._

            “I just – I just want to help you is all, Ileanna,” Alistair was still speaking, and the commander was just there enough to tune into his last words. “I want to help you remember and to help you be okay again, and I know it’s selfish but I want to help you remember _me._ ” She was ware enough now to realize that both of his arms were around her, and he squeezed her tight to him. “It’s cruel of me, isn’t it?”

            “Not at all.” The commander replied, once again caught between wanting to tell him and wanting to keep it to herself that she’d remembered a very important detail about their relationship. She’d told him before that she remembered their dalliance in her tent, but this seemed more personal. She wouldn’t even tell her closest friends about this – if she had any. Fergus wouldn’t even have been privy to this information, and she had practically shared everything she remembered with her brother before she left Highever. “Alistair,” she started, still uncertain.

            “Yes?” The prince asked, and she could feel him turn his head to look down at the top of hers. She was grateful, once again, that he didn’t move her.

            “I remember.” There it was. Just like before, she whispered the words and felt infinitely better. He froze beneath her, though, and Ileanna was once again left passing between guilt and relief. She was making this so much harder on him. “I mean – I… I remember loving you.”

            Though she dreaded what she would find when she did so, Ileanna finally shifted in his arms to look up at Alistair’s face. She needed to see this, and he needed the contact to know the truth.

            Her mortification was immediately replaced by affection for the man.

            Alistair’s eyes were brimming with almost-tears, and the hope that Ileanna saw there was nearly infectious. She felt, for just a brief minute, as she had in her past. That maybe they could get through this together and live happily ever after as… As the Prince and Princess.

            The thought nearly had her in hysterics before Alistair had time to reply.

            But hurt replaced the prince’s hopefulness, and Ileanna felt him start to shove her away. Desperately, she clung to him, shaking her head in an attempt to tell him that no, she wasn’t laughing at him, she was laughing at the notion of _them_ together in that sense.

            “No!” She gasped, clinging to him still. “No Alistair, I’m not – I’m not tricking you, I promise I’m not laughing at you!” Ileanna struggled to calm herself down, but when she was finally able to breathe again, she reached up to touch his cheek, smiling affectionately at him despite the hurt in his eyes. “Andraste’s _tits,_ Alistair, you’re – you’re the _prince!_ ” She giggled again, watching as the hurt morphed to confusion on his face. “What would people think if we started – how could we possibly –“ Ileanna cut herself off, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone in a gesture of affection she hoped he understood. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Alistair clearly had no idea what was going through her head. Something they both had in common, apparently, because Ileanna hardly understood herself either.

            “You’re the late Teyrn’s daughter, Ileanna.” Alistair reminded her after a moment of thought. It seemed he was catching on, and Ileanna was grateful. She was already having a hard time explaining things. “There’s nothing more appropriate than _that,_ really.”

            Ileanna’s affectionate smile soothed the nerves between them. Her tears mostly gone, she nestled back into the crook of the prince’s arm, giving a short chuckle. “I know I am,” she replied when she was settled. “And I know it is, but it felt so strange to think about it for a moment. Being _courted_ by the _prince_. Living domestically away from all of the Blight and the Wardens and everything that comes with it.” She looked up at him, relieved to see that he was smiling again, too. “I think it would be nice.”

            “Tell me what you remember.” Alistair replied, his arm once again draped over her shoulder, the pain from the previous moment gone completely from his face and voice. “Tell me what you just recalled.”

            “I remembered the rose,” The commander replied softly, her lips twitching up in a smile. “It seems rather out of context to me right now, but I remember that we were in my tent again, and you gave me that rose and told me that you loved me.”

            “And?” He asked. If Ileanna hadn’t known any better she could have sworn there was a hint of mischief in his tone.

            “And I said I loved you back.” Ileanna finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She _had_ loved Alistair she realized. And those feelings seemed to remain, under the veil of her lost memory. She couldn’t remember them explicitly, but they stirred when she saw him. Especially now when she was held in his arms, in her own bed and room and home. She felt more comfortable here, she was sure, than she would have ever felt on the road with him. “Alistair?” She continued after a silence passed between them. “What does this mean?”

            “This means that I have to do everything in the world to be worth your time again,” The prince replied, grinning down at her. “But you deserve your freedom, so I’ll try not to influence any decision that you have on the matter.”

            Well, Ileanna considered, they were already practically cuddling on her bed.

            “What if I’ve already made my decision?” She asked, realizing that she had, in fact, already decided on the matter. She had probably decided two days before when she remembered their moment in her tent, but this only solidified it. “What if I already know what I’m going to do now?”

            “Then I’ll respect whatever decision you’ve made, Ileanna Cousland.” Alistair replied, and though he gave a confident smile she could see the worry in his eyes and the bob of his throat when he swallowed.

            “Very well, your highness,” Ileanna inclined her head, mocking formality before she smiled up at him again. “Alistair, I-“

            “Lady Cousland!” There was a rapid knocking at her door, and Ileanna was startled practically three feet into the air before the latch was thrown and a harried serving girl ushered inside. Alistair hastened to sit up straight, and Ileanna started to shove around the pieces of her gear on the other side of her bed to make it look like she had been busy and that they definitely _were not_ doing anything inappropriate.

            The serving girl’s cheeks flushed deep with embarrassment, but the situation was only made worse when Nathaniel Howe trudged to the door behind her. He leaned against the frame, a smirk on his lips and a wicked glint in his eyes. Ileanna inwardly groaned, closing her eyes tight. Maids were paid to forget these types of things, but there was no way Nathaniel Howe would let it go.

            “Lady Cousland,” The girl bowed her head, purposefully not looking at either of the two on the bed. “There are two Templars and a mage here for you, a matter which Master Howe wishes to discuss whenever…” she glanced up again, her cheeks pink. “Whenever you and the Prince are available.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shitty romance chapter to get closer to the nitty gritty. Not gonna lie though, guys, I had a little too much fun here.


	23. Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a tense argument, Anders joins the Wardens and a few Templars deliver Ileanna unsettling news.

“Mage and Templars first.” Ileanna growled, striding down the hall with Nathaniel and Alistair at her sides. The former had a smirk on his face that she wished she could smack off of him, but she knew that wouldn’t result in much. Just make him more pleased with himself that he’d gotten under her skin. She’d strapped her guns on though, so she hoped that would keep him from stepping out of line. “What are they doing here?”

          “Well, my lady,” The maid hastened her step so that she could keep up with the commander’s stride and stay just in front of her. The younger woman was practically sprinting backwards down the hallway so that she could speak to the warden. “The Templars claim that they were hunting down the mage when the Darkspawn hit Amaranthine, and that the mage wants to join the Wardens, but I doubt he’s got pure inten-“ She cut herself off at the look Ileanna gave her. “Right, sorry your ladyship. In any case, the mage says he’d like to pledge his service to the Grey Wardens so that the Templars can make it safely back to the Tower without him.”

           Despite herself, the Warden-Commander couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. Of course a mage would want to get as far away from the Tower as possible, but did he know what he was getting himself into with to the Wardens? Likely not, but he would soon enough. She wondered why he hated the circle so much. It had come a long way since the first Dragon Age. But then again, there were always people like Cullen in the world…

            She’d see what this mage was made of, Ileanna decided. What could it hurt?

            The maid stepped to the side when she was finished speaking, so that the group could pass, but Ileanna could hear her following behind them still. She was grateful, this could be messy if things went wrong, and while the maid couldn’t do much she’d at least be able to retrieve Fergus.

            “And you?” The commander asked, her voice lowering and her eyes narrowing into a glare, though she didn’t look directly at Nathaniel. “What do you want?”

            “Well, I wanted to talk to you about the mage, really,” Nathaniel started, though Ileanna knew that his intentions weren’t quite so simple. “I think we should take him.”

            “We?” Alistair scoffed from the commander’s other side. “Who put you in charge, Howe?”

            “No one.” Ileanna reminded Nate, still striding forward. “And he’d do well to remember that.” She inclined her head to the side only slightly, showing Nathaniel that he had her attention, though if he stepped out of line he would be reprimanded. “But I’ll respect his opinion. What makes you say we should keep him?”

            “We need a mage, for one thing,” Nate replied, shrugging. “It’s a matter of balance, really, but more than that, I know neither of _you_ are walking hospitals.” Ileanna could see his smirk again, and it did nothing but irritate her. “Besides, you said it yourself, the Wardens need all the help they can get. What if the Spawn have been spurred to another Blight?”

            He was right again, but Ileanna would never tell him that to his face. She remembered the results of telling Nathaniel Howe that he had been right in anything, and she never wanted to live through those again. His pride was hard enough to bear regularly, let alone when someone he sees as a challenge admits that he’s _correct_ in something.

            “Another Archdemon can’t wake up that fast.” Alistair responded, buying the Commander precious time in her response. “It’s practically unheard of, and I doubt there’s another Old God sitting in wait beneath Amaranthine.” He gave the Commander a pointed look, and though she didn’t understand, she nodded just to aggravate Nathaniel further. If they were in on something that he wasn’t, it would only eat at him until she caved. Though it bothered her that Ileanna had no idea what Alistair was giving her that look for, it pleased her to no end to know that Nathaniel was ten times more upset.

            They stopped before the doors to the main hall just in time to hear a not so quiet argument stemming from within. The newly re-dubbed Warden-Commander sighed and readjusted her gun belt – maybe in her home and under her authority, this would turn out better than she thought it was going to, butt was already turning out to be a longer day than she desired. Now she was adding mages and Templars into the conflict…

          “Alright!” Ileanna shouted over the argument when she pushed the door to the main hall open. Alistair, Nathaniel, and the maid trailed in behind her with much less enthusiasm. “You’re in _my_ home and under my authority as Warden-Commander!” The three Templars and the mage stopped immediately, and Ileanna was glad of her timely interruption. The templars’ hands were raised, one itching ever closer to the sword on his belt while the mage had his hands clenched at his side. The room was brimming with an energy that might have been tension, but shimmered like magic.

            “Apologies, my Lady,” The Templar in the middle bowed his head, and Ileanna was pleased that he was willing to give up conflict for the moment. “But we simply cannot allow this mage out of our sights and out of the college, he’s a notorious apostate-“

            “I just want my freedom!” The mage cried, throwing his hands into the air in frustration, which only made things worse. The other two Templars’ hands immediately flew to their guns, but Ileanna was quicker.

            She had her pistols drawn and pointed at the Templars faster than the mage could even realize what he had done. The commander glared at the four of them, raising her brow in a challenge.

            “Weapons away, gentlemen,” Ileanna cautioned, her voice low with the threat hidden behind her words. “We’ll talk this out, but I’ve already made a decision on the matter.” The Templars looked as though they were about to protest, but each had their weapon away and their hands at their sides before Ileanna had to repeat herself. “Mage,” She continued, and though her weapon stayed out and pointed at the Templars, Ileanna focused her attention on the frustrated mage. “Your name?”

            “It’s Anders.” He replied curtly, and despite the fact that she was miffed he didn’t use any of her titles, Ileanna accepted the introduction for what it was. She didn’t want to make the situation any worse. He’d learn his manners later.

            “You’ve decided to enlist in the Grey Wardens?” The Commander asked.

            “Yes.” Anders sighed, as though this was very obvious and he had been asked this question a number of times already.

            “Excellent.” Ileanna lowered and holstered her pistol and gave a beaming smile to the four. “It’s settled then.” The three Templars shared a confused look. More bored than she should have been, Ileanna continued: “I, Warden-Commander Ileanna Eleanor Cousland, by the power bestowed upon me by the Prince and Council of Ferelden, hereby invoke the Right of Conscription upon this mage.” She glanced around again, and though there were certainly gnashed teeth and scowls from the Templars, no one could argue with her. She had the right and they knew it.

            “Now,” The Commander continued, clasping her hands behind her back. “Gentlemen, it greatly pleases me that you were willing enough to bring Anders to us. I’m glad that you saw sense in allowing him to join the Grey Wardens – but I must ask,” she faltered slightly, glancing at Alistair then at Nathaniel. “How did you know that the Wardens were reinstated?”

            The Templar on the right cleared his throat. He stepped forward, and though Anders’ fists clenched, neither mage nor Templar reacted to each other.

            “Ma’am,” he spoke, and Ileanna was pleased that he remembered himself and her station above him. “It’s been all over the news. Even the radio is saying that the Hero of Ferelden has returned and that there are talks of the Wardens coming back.” He glanced behind himself for support from his brothers, and each one nodded. Turning to face the Commander again, bolstered by his support, he continued. “We were fleeing from Amaranthine when we heard the initial reports of talks. Arl Eamon even said it on the news-“

            “Arl Eamon?” Ileanna asked, startled. She hadn’t heard anything of the sort, and even though she and Alistair both had missed two days because of their travels, she never expected to have missed so much. Or to have been told so little by the Arl himself. “He was on the news?”

            “Yes ma’am,” the Templar continued, nodding. “It was here, in Highever. He said that they were hoping to involve the Wardens on the scene in Amaranthine, and that the Hero of Ferelden would be leading them again.” Now, the Templar couldn’t hide his sheepish grin and Ileanna tried hard not to groan. Leave it to Eamon to worsen her situation. Even the Templars, despite her rocky history with them, were looking up to her still. “And might I add, my lady,” the soldier blustered on. “That it is a great honor to meet you.”

            “The pleasure is mine,” Ileanna replied, tactfully keeping the grumble out of her voice. She would address Eamon on this later, but the matter at hand was more important. “But I’m going to have to send you gentlemen back to the College empty handed. Anders is now officially under the protection of the Grey Wardens as one of our newest recruits.”

            This brought attention back to their issues, and each of the Templars’ eager faces turned back down into a grimace. The one that spoke directly with her stepped back into line with his brothers, and collectively they gave her a salute.

            “It was an honor, ma’am.” The Templar in the center repeated his brother before the three of them turned heel and strode out the door of the main hall.

            Anders choked out a strained laugh, drawing attention back to himself once the Templars were gone.

            “Well,” He huffed. “That was tense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a minute, y'all, but I haven't forgotten. I'm glad that you're all still reading, and I appreciate the comments that I've gotten thus far. It means a lot to me that you all love this story as much as I do, though it must feel like I don't since I keep forgetting to update. The semester is getting a little more difficult for me as time goes on, and there's been some recent bad news in my family so I'm struggling, a little, to keep my creativity flowing. I appreciate all of the love - Sam <3


	24. Escort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daaaaaaamn Sammy, back at it again with the update!

Once the Templars had gone, once the tension in the main hall dissipated and Ileanna was left standing with her two lovers, a maid, and a mage, she felt the all-too-familiar threat of her breaking point looming behind her. The day had been too long, she’d been assaulted by her past too many times and left feeling rubbed raw by the sheer weight of everything being heaped upon her shoulders again. They needed a base. They needed the materials for the Joining. They needed more Wardens, but that wouldn’t happen any time soon and the ever-pressing threat of another Horde laughed in her face.

            Fuck, she needed a drink.

            “Right,” The commander sighed, her shoulders slumping uncharacteristically and her voice draining of any emotion that had been behind it. “Anders, Elizabeth here,” she gestured to the maid that stood behind her and hoped desperately that she’d gotten the woman’s name right. When there was no correction she breathed a little easier. “She’ll take you to the guest wing and show you a room that you can stay in. Nathaniel, go with him and compare notes on whatever you know about the Darkspawn amassing to the East. Elizabeth?” She asked, turning towards the maid. “Do you know when dinner is?” Dumb question, of course she knew, but Ileanna could barely think straight.

            “At six, my lady.” Came the response, free of questions or concern.

            That gave her a few hours, at least.

“Thank you,” Ileanna gave her a smile and returned her attention to Nathaniel and Anders. “I expect a full report from you over dinner. You’re dismissed.”

            The mage nodded, but Nathaniel only let out a snort in response as they followed Elizabeth off to the guest wing.

            There was a moment of silence that Ileanna was entirely grateful for, after the exit of the three. She took in a breath, held it for a moment longer than she should have and exhaled in a great sigh, forgetting that Alistair was there until his hand slid onto her shoulder and she had to fight the urge to grab it and fling him forward again. Maybe she needed more than one drink, even.

            “Ileanna.” Alistair’s voice was filled with the concern that she had dreaded from the maid, though she felt strangely comforted hearing it come from him. The few memories that she had of them together passed through her mind again, and she found that she felt only warmth from them, no longer the embarrassment and insecurity that they had offered her before. “You need to rest,” The prince continued. “You’ve had a long day and you barely slept last night.”

            He was right, but Ileanna was reminded of the moment before their earlier interruption. She’d been about to confess to him, and suddenly she wasn’t sure if it was a good time anymore. Would they be rushing things? Was there something else that she wasn’t remembering that would change what she thought? She’d seen the rose and their romance blossom, but what happened after that? Anxiety welled in her stomach when the commander looking into Alistair’s face, and she knew that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him what she’d been about to say earlier. She felt so sure, before, that she’d loved him the same way as she had during the Blight, but now that she’d had a moment to think… What if she had been wrong? What if she was only remembering the good things and fooling herself into thinking that she’d fallen for him again?

            Ileanna felt suddenly as though she had only known him for the few days since the fire alarm, and she was acutely aware that this was almost true. She had only a handful of memories from their time together during the Blight. Alistair would probably think she was crazy if she suddenly admit her love to him!

            “Ileanna?” Alistair was repeating her name, though, and her attention was stolen from her anxieties by his voice. “Maker, Ileanna, calm down…”

            Was she not calm? The commander was suddenly very acutely aware of the rate of her breath and the pounding of her heart in her chest that usually came in association to the anxiety that had plagued her after the Blight. Ileanna held her breath a moment to calm herself, gathering her thoughts together before she was able to force a smile to Alistair.

            “I’m fine,” she assured him, though she knew he didn’t believe her, by the look on his face. She hardly believed herself, so she couldn’t blame him. “But you’re right, I need rest.”

            “Would you mind if I escorted you to your rooms, my lady?” The prince asked, a playful smirk on his lips. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but Ileanna’s stomach flipped when he asked. The smirk faltered when he saw her expression change briefly, but he still reached out to take her hand. “I’ll behave,” his playful smirk turned into a warm smile. “I promise.”

            Reassured, though the continued flop of her gut told her otherwise, Ileanna accepted Alistair’s hand, instinctively lacing her fingers with his as she followed him along down the hallway and back to her room. It felt like hours since they had been interrupted, though she knew it had only been around fifteen minutes. She tried to force herself to imagine that they could pick up where they left off, that she could open her mouth and tell him she loved him, but…

            It still felt wrong. Like they had to go through another bout of life threatening war together again before she could admit that she had fallen for him. Which meant that, no matter how much she didn’t want to, Ileanna would have to admit that they were bound for exactly that. The horde amassing in Amaranthine would bring them close together as it once had in Ostagar.

            “I hear Lothering is being rebuilt.” Ileanna couldn’t believe it, but Alistair was actually trying to make small talk with her.

            She still hadn’t told him that she couldn’t exactly remember what happened in Lothering. She knew it had been destroyed during the Blight but she had no idea what their relationship to the place was.

            “How badly did the Darkspawn destroy it?” She asked in return. They were nearing her room now and she was more nervous than she had been earlier. How awkward would their parting be? Would he leave? She felt the need to invite him back in, keep up their previous conversation, but she already decided that was impossible…

            “It was practically wiped off the map, Ileanna,” Alistair frowned down at her, his eyebrow raising. “Do you really not remember it? You didn’t watch the news or anything?”

            “I remember it was destroyed. I remember the town itself, but I don’t…” Ileanna sighed, passing a hand through her hair. “I don’t remember what we did there, or why we were even there in the first place. When… Alistair, when I woke up I didn’t _want_ to remember.”

            Oh Maker… Where had that come from? She hadn’t admit that to anyone. Not Nathaniel or even Fergus, or even herself, sometimes. But there it was, the bitter truth that had been clawing inside of her since she woke up after slaying Urthemiel. Emboldened, she forced herself to continue.

            “Immediately after I was awake all of Highever knew, and the news spread so quickly that there were reporters and news crews everywhere. It was a miracle I was able to even keep them out of the castle. Fergus wasn’t much better than I was so neither of us really needed the stress that the cameras brought. I… was upset. Realizing that I couldn’t remember anything… that was the most damaging thing that had happened. I started to have the nightmares, and I didn’t… _want_ to remember anything else. The news crews, the journalists, the authors that wanted the story of the Blight… I couldn’t give it to them.”

            There was a silence that followed that she wasn’t sure she was grateful to hear or not. They stood in front of her door now, Ileanna’s eyes closed tight and Alistair staring at her with his own wide open. She waited, not letting herself see his expression in fear of the rejection that she thought she might see there. He probably thought she wasn’t even human. That she was some emotionless wreck with no comprehension of the world around her. A spoiled brat that didn’t know how to live her life.

            “Ileanna,” Alistair breathed after the silence passed between them for so long that it was almost unbearable. His voice was remarkably soft, and though she felt his words almost wrap around her and comfort her, the commander wouldn’t let herself open her eyes. Alistair’s arms found their way around her, though, and the prince pulled her against his chest slowly, carefully so as to not startle her. “Relax. Sometimes I wish I forgot, too.”

            He meant it to be understanding. He meant to sympathize with her, she knew, but Ileanna couldn’t help pushing away from Alistair. She stared up at him, the breath pulled from her lungs at the shock of it.

            “No, Alistair,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Maker have mercy, don’t ever say something like that again. Don’t ever wish that.” Ileanna almost laughed with the shock of his revelation. “No matter how many times I say I wish that I could just not remember, that I could go back and just take all of it away, I wouldn’t give up what I have for the entire world.” The horror of what he had admit dawned slowly, and the commander had to calm herself in an effort to not raise her voice at the other warden out of her frustration. “I appreciate the sentiment, but Alistair I would give anything to have it all back. If I could just fucking remember half of the things that happened over the last two years, I could be at peace. The nightmares could stop! I wouldn’t be _afraid_ anymore that every time I see something from the Blight I break into pieces!”

            Almost desperately, Ileanna grasped at Alistair’s arms. “More than that, I would give _anything_ to understand what happened between us.” She whispered furtively, leaning in closer so that only he could hear. “I would give anything to understand and justify what I’m feeling right now, but I can’t piece it all together, Alistair. I didn’t _want_ to remember the bad things, Alistair, but that took away all the good things that happened too. That took away everything that came with the Darkspawn and the dragons and the terror.” She looked up at him, and was pleased to see the realization that he’d messed up on Alistair’s face. “It took away _you_.”

            Slow and careful as ever, the prince reached up to take Ileanna’s arms in his hands in a similar gesture to hers. “I understand.” He repeated, offering her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I was only trying to-“

            “I know,” Ileanna smiled in return, squeezing his arms for the briefest of moments before she let go. “I understand, too. I appreciate the gesture, but know that it’s never okay to forget. What I’m going through right now? I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been approximately three hundred years since I have posted an update to this, and I apologize for that tenfold.


	25. Dinner and a Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all thought I was missing, didn't you? Well I was, since I left the fandom for a while now but I decided to pick this up again. A lot of material packed in one chapter because I've been writing without posting for a while now. Enjoy!

By the time that she had been woken up, it felt like Ileanna had only slept for fifteen minutes. But she could tell by the sheen of sweat that covered her body, the dampness of her hair, and the red splotch on her cheek that it had been at least three hours since Alistair had left her in front of her door after their brief dispute. She’d slept dreamlessly, but it felt as though she hadn’t really slept at all. Three hours didn’t mean a lot when that was the approximate total she had gotten in the past week alone.

            But the knock on her door drew her out of her nap and before she even had time to answer, little Elizabeth was poking herself through the crack again. Ileanna raised her head, only vaguely aware of the tangled mess her hair was in and the spot of dried spit at the corner of her mouth. She ran her wrist over her lip to remove it, but the endeavor was unsuccessful and only drew a slight giggle from Elizabeth’s lips.

            “It’s nearly dinner, Lady Cousland,” The maid remarked, keeping her head down. “I thought I would give you time to gather yourself before the meal.”

            Was it really almost six? Ileanna grunted as she pushed herself up, tangling long legs in her blankets in the process. She sighed in defeat at the mess she had made of herself, and passed a hand over her face in defeat.

            “Thanks, Elizabeth,” she croaked, offering the girl a tired, drained smile. “And please, I’m more used to Ileanna by now that I am to Lady Cousland, you don’t have to go to such extremes.”

            “Forgive me, Lady-“ The maid’s cheeks colored. “Ileanna.”

            “No problem, Lizzy,” The warden remarked in return, smiling at the shocked face of her maid. “I appreciate the wake-up call. I need to freshen up again before I go down to that inevitable catastrophe.” When she was finally free of her sheets, Ileanna crawled out of her bed and stretched herself out carefully. “Do you know the seating arrangements?” Of course she did. Another stupid question.

            “Of course, miss,” Elizabeth bowed her head again, reciting the seating order by memory. “Your brother sits at the head of the table, you at his right hand and Prince Alistair at his left. Arl Eamon is joining you tonight, and he sits beside the prince. Beside you is Nathaniel Howe, and then the mage Anders.” The maid paused and grimaced, but Ileanna didn’t have time to interrupt her. “And there has been an… addition to the manor. A dwarf by the name of Oghren that the Prince has vouched for.” She looked none too pleased by this addition, and Ileanna wondered briefly how she had forgotten such an unpleasant person, by the looks of it.

            “Do you think you could do me a favor, Lizzy?” The warden-commander asked, her voice as kind as possible. When the maid didn’t respond with more than a tilt of her head, Ileanna went on. “Could you switch it so that Alistair and I are seated next to each other?” The request sounded childish, and it was surely a slight to the prince to not have him sitting beside the teyrn, but she needed the comfort that his presenece had afforded her in the past few days. “So that Arl Eamon is sitting beside my brother and Nathaniel is beside him.”

            “I will do my best, Lady Ileanna,” Elizabeth nodded her head, and Ileanna knew instantly that the maid had heard her conflict with Nathaniel earlier that day. “You have fifteen minutes before dinner.” She curtsied gracefully, and turned away back out the door.

            Fifteen minutes to herself. It seemed like more than she had ever wanted and too little at the same time. She’d been a hermit for the past two years and in the past week alone she’d had more interaction with people than in the past twelve months. It left her feeling drained and eager for the moments before bed, the time between when her head hit her pillow and when the nightmares began. She took one deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it all out in one long sigh.

            Not wanting to squander her brief time, Ileanna moved quickly to her adjacent bathroom, grabbing her bag of toiletries off her dresser as she went. She washed her face clean of the sweat of sleep and the drool on her cheek, brushed and aired out her hair, and scrubbed at her teeth with her favorite toothpaste. Ten minutes left.

            Moving slower now, she went back into her room and toed at the pile of clothes that she had left on her floor in front of her closet. Civilian things, though it was strange thinking of them like that. High end fashions that she’d left here before the Blight, the things she had taken from her apartment. It was odd to call them civilian. She hadn’t been a military force for two years, but she’d been thrust back into the position in the past two days alone and it had already infected her mindset.

            Ileanna changed out of her pajamas and into one of her favorite dresses. A flowy blue thing that had a slip and a lace covering. It came down just past her knees and though it was sleeveless and the neckline dipped down below her collar bone, she could pull her favorite grey cardigan over it and still be fashionable and tasteful while she was being comfortable. The cardigan was warm and oversized, dwarfing her and engulfing her in a soft hug that she didn’t know she needed. Ileanna couldn’t remember where she got the thing, and she didn’t know if that was the result of the Blight or time, but she didn’t care. It felt like home, and she would wear it to dinner no matter what anyone said.

            Five minutes. She debated heels, since Arl Eamon was there and it seemed to be a semi-formal occasion, but dropped the matter. She was already 6’3” and didn’t need the addition. She wouldn’t be overpowering anyone tonight, even if Nathaniel did try to spark up a fight over dinner. Black flats, she decided, before making her way down to the dining room.

            A member of the manor staff that she didn’t know the name of opened the door for her, announcing “Lady Cousland” before she could ask him not to. Ileanna’s cheeks burned brightly when she caught sight of the people already in the dining room staring up at her. Maker, this was not what she needed.

            Alistair stood first, nodding his head to her in greeting. Ileanna wasn’t sure why that made her cheeks heat up further, but they calmed some when Fergus and Eamon rose next. Nathaniel and Anders stood last, and-

            Oh.

\---

            _“Ah!” The dwarf shouted, slamming his bottle down onto the bar counter. Ileanna was surprised it didn’t shatter, and was briefly mortified by the behavior before she started laughing with him. “That’s a good brew!!” He gestured for the bartender. “Two more, man.” He stated, gesturing between he and Ileanna._

_She didn’t know if she could drink another, or even if she wanted to, but Ileanna could rest easy knowing that Oghren would probably finish hers off for her and not be any worse for wear because of it. Sometimes the commander envied her dwarven companion’s ease with the drink, but it was times like this when she was just grateful that he was too drunk to hold a proper conversation. She didn’t mind his fighting or his company, but Ileanna sure as hell minded his manners more than he did._

_“You sure about that, Oghren?” The commander asked, raising her eyebrow at him. “You know as your commanding officer I have the right to cut you off, right?”_

_“Yeah but yer not gonna do that, are yeh?” he grumbled at her in response, smirking beneath his great ginger beard. She knew he was right. It would be more of an offense to a dwarf – this dwarf, at least – than anything else in this case, to cut him off. She knew he wouldn’t even be hungover in the morning anyway._

_“You got me there, dwarf,” Ileanna shrugged, patting him on the back. When the bartender placed their drinks in front of them, she clapped her companion on the shoulder and noisily toasted her bottle to him. “To your stamina, sir.”_

_“And_ yer _patience!”_

_\---_

The red bearded dwarf hadn’t been sitting at the table, and so it didn’t take him much effort to barrel straight towards her, much to the shock and dismay of the other dinner guests. Ileanna couldn’t breathe well enough to get the warning out of her throat that she was certainly not up to this confrontation, and she sent a pleading glance at Alistair to tell him as such, but he was still unable to stop the dwarf from barreling into her. Strong arms wrapped around her thighs in a tight hug, lifting her up off her feet. Ileanna let out a shout of alarm, but that didn’t even stop him.

            “Commander!” Oghren shouted, finally setting the startled woman back on her feet. Behind him, Ileanna could see the shocked expressions of her dinner guests. Fergus and Eamon, mostly, were surprised that the dwarf was so forward with her. If his presence hadn’t just triggered a rather startling reminder of who he was, then Ileanna would have been in the same boat with them. Though she expected that not even she could forget Oghren for an extended period of time. Already, memories of him were coming back and they were all rather… exuberant.

            “Hello, Oghren,” Ileanna greeted in return, contorting her face into a smile. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been a good friend to her when he volunteered himself to the service of the Wardens, but the disjunction between he and the very atmosphere of the manor was so strong that I threw Ileanna for a loop. She hadn’t expected to see him again, let alone here. “It’s good to see you.”

            “You too, Commander,” The dwarf gave her a thump on the arm, a grin spread wide across his face. “I came as soon as I heard on the radio that the Wardens were rallying in Highever. Someone said the Hero of Ferelden was back and I thought to myself: if the Wardens are back and the Commander is out of hiding, then I might as well hightail it on over to Highever.” He stood proud for a moment, before continuing. “Where have you been, Commander?”

            The silence that followed was so uncomfortable, and the shock of her memories was so sudden that Ileanna wasn’t sure if she would be able to hold herself up for much longer. Thankfully, the suddenness of the situation didn’t affect everyone else the same way it affected her. Ileanna was relieved that Alistair was at her side before she could even request it, his hand on her elbow to hold her up, ever the gentleman.

            “That may be a discussion for another time, Oghren,” the prince remarked. “Lady Cousland has had a… trying day.” Ileanna could have sworn that he sent a glare to Nathaniel out of the corner of his eye, but she said nothing of it. Alistair led them all back to the table, guiding Ileanna gently into her seat before he turned to face the dwarf. “Will you be joining us, Oghren?”

            “’Fraid not, Captain,” Oghren shook his head, straightening his shoulders so that he could stand as tall as a dwarf could. “Not fit for this kinda company. Much better off in the barracks than in the dining room.” He seemed proud of this, and no one was willing to scoff at it. “I only came to tell you I’d be joining the Wardens again. Full stop. Rituals and everything.” Ileanna didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to tell him what that entailed. “I’ll be waiting for your word, Commander.” He saluted Ileanna, to her great surprise, before he strode off through the chamber doors.

            She didn’t need to ask to know that he was probably going to the nearest tavern in Highever proper.

            “That was… interesting.” Arl Eamon commented after a moment of stunned silence.

            Ileanna offered him an apologetic smile from across the table, realizing offhand that Elizabeth had come through with her change to the seating arrangements. The Warden-Commander afforded a short, amused laugh before she spoke.

            “From what I can recall, Oghren has always been a… challenging character. But a devoted fighter. A veritable war machine with an axe.” And she _could_ remember these things. Oghren’s presence had been that overwhelming, coupled with brief memories of battle.

            Alistair took his seat beside her, a short laugh leaving his lips. “Oghren was a good friend throughout the Blight. Always there to listen, always grateful for what we did for him.”  Ileanna cast him a questioning glance, but he shook his head. “For a later time,” he explained.

            Dinner was served in the quiet that followed, and Ileanna was suddenly ravenous. One of the few things that she had missed of Highever when she moved into her apartment were the cooks there, and after living a year on her own poor fare, dinner at home was a feast to behold. In her depression while she was recovering at Highever she’d been unable to appreciate the meals that had been prepared for her, forgetting to eat or not hungry enough to eat more than her lunch, most days. But she was healthier now, and hungry for more than frozen chicken and pasta. And though her manners hadn’t left her in her absence from society, she’d clearly left them behind in her bedroom. She ate as her mabari might have, starving and hurried for every portion.

\---

_“How are you feeling?” Alistair sat beside her at the camp fire, holding out a cup of the instant coffee that he had made for the two of them. Ileanna took it gratefully, holding it gingerly between her hands so that she wouldn’t burn herself, though she still took a sip too fast. Having something in her stomach would settle her, maybe even fool her into thinking that she wasn’t hungry. Alistair seemed to understand, because he offered her an apologetic smile._

_“Hungry.” She explained, and he nodded. Sometimes, she forgot that Alistair should have been the commander of their band, not her. He had the experience of the Wardens that she didn’t, even though he had only been a junior member when she underwent her Joining. Though the Wardens had been officially out of commission when he Joined, they were still recruiting as Darkspawn attacks had become more and more prominent over the Southern continent. He understood more about the Wardens and how the Joining affected the human body better than she ever could have. Duncan had been there to explain it to him, while she had been thrust headfirst into the entire Blight._

_“That’ll happen,” he returned, shrugging. “There’s not much we can do. After my Joining I practically ate an entire druffalo. The first meal they put in front of me was gone in minutes. You’d think I had forgotten that food existed, the way that I had to eat.” He smiled at her, the light of the fire illuminating the lines on his cheeks and the curve of his lips. His eyes danced with the happy memory, though Ileanna could see the threat of sadness at the loss of their comrades. “Duncan failed to mention to me that my diet would be changed after the Joining. The Darkspawn blood has that effect. They’re always ravenous for something, those creatures, so the Taint makes those affected by it remarkably hungry. It’s why ghouls down in the Deep Roads, the dwarves that are cursed to feeding off Tainted flesh, are always so bloated and disgusting when they’re found if they wander too close to the Thaig. They have to keep consuming.”_

_Ileanna stared down at her coffee, and when Wynne placed down a mug of soup beside her and Alistair, she found that she could hardly stomach to look at it, despite the fact that her stomach growled for more._

_\---_

Ileanna forced herself to slow, to move like a regular person but continue to move through the onslaught of her brief memory. That explained why she had been suddenly hungry so many times since getting back from Highever. Her body needed it, but not because she hadn’t been eating well. Because of the Joining and what the Wardens had done to her. One question that she was at least glad to have answered. Thankfully, she noted as she glanced around the table, no one seemed to notice her change in behavior, and if they did they didn’t stop to discuss it. Battered memories and Blights and Joinings were not things to talk about during dinner.

            She did, however, notice that Alistair was staring at her particularly intensely over his meal, through the amiable conversation that had broken between Fergus and Arl Eamon.

            “Is there something that I can do for you, Alistair?” The commander asked, raising an eyebrow at him. If their relationship had been secret before, then he was by no means concealing that. He stared at her in concentration, his lips pulled into a tight line like he was looking for something on her.

            “Is that my sweater?”

            Ileanna choked on her water that she had taken a drink of while she prepared to listen to him explain himself. She stared at him, her eyes wide in alarm as she tried to stifle down the coughs that came from the water going down her throat the wrong way. Fergus reached over in alarm and thumped her on the back and clear her lungs, and though it helped to some degree she shook him away.

            “I’m sorry?” She asked, trying to convey to Alistair that this was neither the time nor the place to discuss this topic, as that would potentially reveal that they had been something deeper than Captain and Commander before her disappearance. “No? This is my favorite sweater, I’ve had it for a while now. I mean, I don’t know where I… got… it…” She couldn’t remember. She’d made note of it when she was getting ready to go to dinner, but she couldn’t remember where she had gotten this sweater. It seemed too new to be of sentimental value from her youth and too nondescript to have been a holiday gift. Her alarm picked up, her heart beating faster in her chest when she noticed that the conversation had dropped around the table and turned to focus on the two wardens.

            “That _has_ to be my sweater, I’ve been looking for it for ages!” Alistair was amused, it seemed, and that clouded him from picking up on the fact that Ileanna was desperately trying to convey to him with her eyes that he should drop this conversation at the dinner table before something awful happened. “I got it when I was still in the Chantry, so it should be labeled… yeah, here!” He reached behind her, and Ileanna shivered in surprise when his fingers brushed over the nape of her neck to get to the tag that stuck out from the back of the sweater. “A.T. Underlined three times in green marker. Maker, that’s a relief, I thought I had lost it to the Blight!”

            There was surprise written on every face at the table except for Ileanna’s, whose expression was both mortified and horribly embarrassed at the same time. She looked down at her hands, her cheeks going redder than a tomato at the threat that their previous relationship was about to be thrown out into the limelight in front of quite a few people that she’d rather keep it from, for the time being. Especially Nathaniel and Arl Eamon.

            “Ileanna?” Fergus spoke, but there was a hint of mischief in just her name coming from his lips. When she looked up at him, she could see that he was smirking, as if he knew something that she didn’t, which was probably the truth though she couldn’t guess why. Fergus had been in Chasind care the entire time that she was fighting the Blight, and when he was back in Highever they were both in poor condition. But he smirked at her still. “Why do you have the prince’s sweater?”

            “I don’t know!” Ileanna defended herself too quickly, and it seemed that only validated Fergus’ amusement. She still hastened though, this time in an effort to correct herself. “I mean – I really don’t. We worked closely together, and we were all traveling in the same space for a year, there was bound to be one thing or another that got lost in the mix between us all.” She waved her hand flippantly, shaking her head as though she could just get rid of the matter entirely and wipe this embarrassment away. “When I was packing, I found Zevran’s sword oil in my case.” A lie, and not one becoming of a Warden-Commander. She was just trying to save herself – and Alistair – from the scandal and embarrassment this would cause. “It’s no big deal, I just didn’t remember where I got it was all. If I had known, I would have returned it.” She wouldn’t have done anything, kept the sweater and her solitude until this new Darkspawn threat happened. “I’ll give it back to you after dinner, okay?” She asked, too quickly still, turning to face Alistair.

            Who was just starting to realize the problem he had caused for the both of them. His cheeks were red, almost, she was sure, as red as Ileanna’s. He offered her an apologetic glance, but that wouldn’t do much in the stead of the teasing she knew that Fergus would give her later. Ileanna chanced a glance at Nathaniel and Anders. The mage was smirking knowingly, though he hardly knew anyone at all, and Nathaniel scowled down at his plate with more of his brand of temper than usual. Arl Eamon looked as though he was an exasperated parent sitting at the table with five very ill behaved children and he just wanted the night to be over with at this point so that he could go to bed and prepare for lessons in the morning.

            Ileanna sighed, passing a hand in front of her face.

            “Right, so,” She looked back at Anders and Nathaniel. “I sent you two away earlier with a mission. You’ve compared notes? What can you both tell me of the Darkspawn activity?”


End file.
